Stars and Candles- Book I
by Floodtail- AKA Floody
Summary: And it was never really your intention to fall in love, not like this. But around her, all your intentions seem to lead the other pathway. She's the spark in your chest, the light in your life, and somehow, intention doesn't quite matter anymore. ;carmilla/laura; multi chapter fic for the web series
1. Chapter I

**Stars and Candles**

_Carmilla Karnstein is a vampire with centuries of guilt on her shoulders and a past more tragic than anyone would want to admit. Laura Hollis is an average University student, fresh to the new way of the world and the darkness that lurks behind the light. The world wasn't supposed to be this cruel for Laura and the ways of vampirism are more enigmatic than Carmilla would have ever thought. They both know they should be racing the clock to save themselves and solve the mysterious disappearances of the Silas University students, but neither can deny the feelings that grow behind closed doors and locked windows— and Laura can't hide that Carmilla draws her closer than she ever imagined, while Carmilla can't shake the fact she feels more alive around Laura than she ever did while she was breathing. laura/carmilla, multichapter fic. _

_~Chapter One~_

Winter has always been too cold at Silas University.

Frigid wind bites across my shoulders, winding through tied up honey colored hair as I curl forward my shoulders and hurry through the screeching wind. I really shouldn't be out in the snowstorms sweeping through our tristate right now, but did Carmilla care about that?_ No, _of course not.

Great elms bow and sway in the gale, branches creaking and groaning as flakes of snow flurry down and dust icily over the ground. The pulsing thrum and roar of rushing cars from a nearby interstate makes its way to my ears, the normally bustling sound diminished by the severity of the weather.

I hate the cold. Always have, in fact— What wouldn't I give to be basking on a beach in some covert place, with dappling sun and lapping waves? But no; instead, I'm here in the cold night, hurrying back to my dorm on a Friday. My fingers burn as they tighten around a dark, bitter black coffee, the other hand curled inside my jacket, trying to retain what little warmth resides in the worn cloth.

I sigh a breath that clouds out in an opaque puff of air and rattles, shuddering, through my ribs as my hands wrap around a steaming thermos of espresso coffee, the steam clouding up and instantly dying in the snowy air. The moon is shrouded over with ragged gray clouds, stars winking and blinking behind the wind-torn night sky. I can feel the numbness the frigid air is causing as I wiggle my toes.

"Laura!"

I halt, cold immediately seeping through old sneakers, eyes darting around as a shout comes from ahead. My head tilts to the side as I take a few more steps so my feet don't stick to the sidewalk, until I'm sheltered minimally from the harsh weather by the Silas University front doors, the gleaming mahogany dark in the shadowy half light. A soft smile flickers across my cold cheeks as a tall figure emerges from the right side of the Silas bus stop, red hair flecked over with snowflakes, like she's been dunked in powdered sugar.

"What are you doing outside in this weather, Danny?" I chuckle as my friend and the Silas TA approaches, shaking the ice and snow from her hair much like a dog would. A lopsided grin makes its way onto the redhead's face as she opens the door for me, eyes smoky with blurred mascara.

"I could ask you the same."

I sigh a little as the door shuts, warmth instantly penetrating the cold jacket and loosening my tense form. My brows slant in a frown, creasing together as I shrug slightly. "Carmilla said she was craving a _straight black coffee_. So being the amazing roommate I am, I went to the Starbucks a block away and bought one. I figured…" I bites her lower lip indecisively, tugging it up. "I mean, it was the _least_ I could do in return for her."

Danny frowns as we mount the stairwell, her hand pausing on the dusty rail, snow melting in her hair and tangling it in little wet streaks. "In return?" She's struggling not to roll her eyes, I can tell, but a worried frown furrows her brows as they dip over her nose. "What has the vampire ever done for you?"

I roll my eyes, a sudden desire to defend my apathetic roommate blossoming somewhere inside. "It's _Carmilla,_" I quip, trying to sound light hearted, an askew, albeit slightly frustrated, smile on my face. "And she hasn't eaten me or, y'know, sucked up my blood like a Slurpee yet. And she's technically the only thing keeping me alive from the 'Dean of Students'… a.k.a her _evil mother._ The least I could do was get the girl a latte."

Danny grumbles. "I don't trust her."

"Well, of course you don't, she's a vampire. And she _did _threaten to _rip out your spine only days ago."_ I murmur ruefully as we climb the steep stairs, the low rumble of noise of other dorms floating down the stairwell. "But… I trust her."

Danny scowls, her face darkening as a thunderous look appears in her eyes. "You're crazy."

"Not crazy," I sigh regretfully, "Just highly nervous, slightly paranoid, and—"

"Crazy. Totally. Don't think you're not, Hollis." Danny's eyes twinkle as we reach the third floor, dorm room 4C.

"Well," she says, clasping her hands and fisting one in the damp cloth of her plaid shirt, the top button rumpled as she bows her head. Red hair shadows over her jaw, gray patches crawling over her skin as she smiles slightly at me. "I'm off to bed. Try not to get eaten like a Slurpee, hey?"

"No guarantees," I say lightly, before bidding her good night. She disappears down the hall, feet softly whispering against the age old, drink stained carpet.

I pull out a tarnished, gently gleaming bronze key and twist it inside, the lock clicking faintly as the door swings open. A blast of warm air and a saccharine, chocolate cookie smell greets me, faintly tinged with the coppery, metallic scent of blood. It's something I've gotten used to. Just so long as it doesn't get too strong.

Carmilla is on her bed, _my _pillow clamped under a pale arm and spilling out on either side, the sunny yellow sharply contrasting the winding strands of dark hair that splay across it in a black, intricate pattern. Her face looks less sharp, more open— almost peaceful— in sleep and I pause by the doorframe, eyes studying the gentle curve of her neck, the way her eyelashes fan out and flutter as she breathes evenly.

I've been doing that lately. Looking closer, at the details that make her— well, her. I don't know why.

I gently shut the door as so not to wake her, the dim light from the hall vanishing, as I click on the lamp. It spills over, casting buttery colors over the rumpled comforter of my bed and dappling shadow of Carmilla's face. As I shift a glance at her, she stretches and yawns, an arm extending out as she strains upward. A bleary eye cracks open and I can't hide a smile as she groans and drops back on the bed, springs creaking under the weight. "Oh, great, _you're_ here, buttercup." Her voice is snarky and she leans forward, pale, bare shoulders white against her dark hair and eyes like thick, black coffee— untainted by any hint of light, the darkest brown.

"Try not to sound too excited," I grumble sarcastically before making my way to the old armchair positioned in front of my laptop. The faint squeak of the bed coupled with a soft thud announces that my roommate has finally gotten up from her daylong sleep, and she approaches from behind, rubbing exhaustion from her eyes. I notice— irately so, at myself for noticing it at all— that her eyelashes clump together, matted, adding to her dark looks even more so.

"Where've you been, cupcake?" She wiggles a dark eyebrow, the other dipping downward in a wayward smirk. "Why are there snowflakes in your hair?" Her hand brushes across my hair draped damp across my collarbone and I suppress a shiver at her touch, before I turn to point at the still—steaming latte that rests on the counter.

"Getting _that_ for you—like you asked me to, dummy— and it's snowing pretty hard outside. Figures."

She silently pads across to pick up the espresso, raising to her lips and sipping delicately before she sets it back down. "Not bad. It reminds me of one I had a party many years ago."

Once again, I'm forcibly reminded of just how old she is.

Old, that's not the word. _Timeless._ That's it. She's timeless. Immortal. And for some reason, that barbs, digging under my skin.

Honestly, even I myself am not sure of what's causing me to feel so down.

"Well, it is from a run of the mill Starbucks." I give a smile that feels more like a grimace, the corner of my mouth curving upward as I duck my head and power on the silver chrome laptop. Evidently, Carmilla can sense my bad mood, because she cocks her head, quirking an eyebrow and giving me a concerned look. "Something bothering you?"

"No," I lie, the words bitter on my tongue as I spit them out and type in my password. The words click across the screen, a solitary line of black orbs that disappear as the screen glows and hums to life, the desktop popping up. I'm aware of Carmilla's querying gaze on my back.

"I've been alive long enough to know when someone is lying to me." Her words are quiet, solemn, almost grieved, and as I flick a glance behind me, her chest struggles to rise and fall with breath, her knuckles whitening where they clench on top of the counter. "So again, sundance. What's wrong?"

I spin in my chair, gnawing the white flecked nail of my thumb, my heart fluttering like a caged bird. Carmilla's eyes rest— almost black in the faint light— on me as she crosses slender arms over her chest and shoots me a look.

"I don't know," I answer truthfully, cause really, I _don't_ know what's bothering me. Or why the fact that Carmilla's only wearing a thin black tank is distracting me. Or why my eyes keeping getting caught on minute details.

Hell and Hogwarts! I really _do_ have a legitimate crush on her.

"What the frilly hell does that mean?" she snorts, slamming the coffee back down. It sprays out in a little shimmering arc of black, hitting the counter as she gives me a confused look.

"Uh—I, er, you see— uh, forget it," I stammer, face searing in a hot blush. I'm simply sure my face is glowing red so that she can see; my earlobes are hot and I swallow. "It's nothing."

"Mhm," she says in a disbelieving tone before reaching over, snatching up my pillow from the floor, and plopping on my bed.

"You're not going out?" I cock an eyebrow at her as she shoves an arm under my pillow and buries her face in it, one leg dangling off the bed.

"No."

"Why not?" I sigh a little, fingers brushing over the cold, raised keys of the laptop, heart flipping in my chest as she looks up from hooded, smoky eyes.

"Because clearly you're feeling off. And it irritates me when you aren't your usual bright, exasperating self. So, I'm staying here so you don't do anything dramatic." She raises an eyebrow and it hits me that this her way of showing that she genuinely is worried for me.

Maybe that's why she's protected me this long.

"Okay," I sigh, swiveling back to computer. The screen casts silver light, playing around my fingers, and I pull up the camcorder app. After about five minutes, I'm just not feeling it, and I grind my teeth so hard it's a wonder they haven't been crushed to dust.

Suddenly I'm shaking, bowed, as it all comes crashing down. My position. Where I am.

I'm a nineteen year old girl living with a vampire and waiting to be sprung and caught. I'm basically waiting for death. Or worse.

I don't realize I'm crying until I touch a trembling hand to my face and feel my cheeks are wet, striped with tears.

"Good Lord, cream puff, are you alright?"

I shake my head erratically before slumping to the floor as something tightens like a bowstring within, clenching and breaking. My heart gives a vicious cry as I hear her footsteps before she's there, beside me, one arm slipping over my shoulder as she places a hand, slowly drawing circles on my back.

Her body fits next to mine, perfectly, her skin warm against mine. Her hand softly strokes my hair as I choke on my sobs, her breath soft against my cheek as she breathes against me. She's surprisingly soft and warm, all planes and angles, free flowing, where I had expected her to be hard and unfeeling. She murmurs condolences in my ears, pressing against me, arm wrapped around my shuddering ribs.

"I want to go home," I choke out into her sleeve.

"I'll protect you." Her voice is sorrowful and she knows that's not a promise she can keep. "I'll do all I can."


	2. Chapter II

**CHAPTER TWO**

_Hi, creampuffs~ :D_

_If you checked out heycarmilla's twitter feed, you'll see she mentions Laura twice and calls her endearing! And along with all the millions of other Hollenstein moments, I'd say we've a good chance of becoming canon! _

_Remember to comment, fave, and SPREAD THIS STORY! :)_

Ω~CARMILLA~Ω

Sometimes she can be so goddamn infuriating.

I twirl a slab of dark chocolate under pale fingers, breath rasping out as I look at her. The moonlight shafts silver, streaming down through the curtained window to light her face. Shadows stretch across her honey hair and her eyelashes flutter as she sleeps, a frown twitching at the corners of her mouth as her face flickers in sleep.

I wonder what she's dreaming about.

I remember hours before, where she had come in, her eyes avoiding mine and her hands twisting in the hem of her shirt. She does that when she's nervous or sad. I've noticed quite a bit indeed about Laura in these past weeks.

I've noticed how I feel drawn to her.

Like I said, infuriating. Exasperating. Irritating. Laura Hollis is all of those things, but there's absolutely no denying there's something about her that weakens me and makes me feel things I've never felt before.

And I've never been one for it, but I could swear I'm falling for her, inexplicably— sing-song Laura Hollis with her too big heart and brown eyes and her acceptance of the monster I am, reckless and a rule stickler and a nag, but God only knows she's also genuine.

I let the chocolate melt on my tongue, sweet, saccharine flavor rolling down my throat as I graze soft eyes over her curled form, hair rumpled, haloing around her head. I take small, swift steps toward her, my hand grazing across her cheek as I study her face, hand cupping her face as my thumb swipes over her delicately slanted cheekbones.

And I'll be damned if I haven't noticed how beautiful she is. Because, God, she's got long golden lashes that barely brush her soft eyebrows, her cheeks are soft and full, her hair is thick and lustrous—

Dangerous. Every nerve in my body is firing, telling me to step away.

Instead I step closer, leaning over her, eyes narrowing to black slits in the scarce moonlight. My tongue passes over my lower lip as I study her. Her expression changes and I can tell she's dreaming. First her mouth thins out, dipping quickly in a wavering frown, eyebrows quivering and lashes twitching. Then her lips part (I shouldn't notice how full they are or how they shine in the silver starlight) and press together, crows feet crinkling the edges of her eyes in a miserable expression.

I spin quickly on one heel and walk away, leaning against the windowsill, eyes straining outward as a long breath rattles my ribs. The glowing lights of Silas obliterate the beauty of the night sky, thick snow clouds screening the moon as flurries spiral through the gusty night. I dig the heel of my hand in between my brows, a headache suddenly pulsing behind the skin, shivers running up my spine as I wrench open the window.

A blast of icy wind hits me, fluffy, frigid flakes whirling in and instantly melting against my skin. The cold feels good and my nails carve little crescents into my arm, the skin whitening around black nails as I draw them away and shut the window before the snow can wet the carpet.

"Carmilla?"

I turn and swear internally as I see Laura sitting up, eyes wide as moons in the dim light, her hands clutching the covers drawn up around her. "What are you still doing up?"

I shrug, jerking one shoulder up as nonchalantly as I can. The rest of my body is pulsing with heat as I look at her. "Oh, you know." I keep my voice low, smooth, charismatic. "Couldn't sleep, cupcake."

Her brow furrows and she squints at the clock on the wall. "It's three in the morning." A wide, jaw gaped yawn breaks off her sentence, her nose scrunching up as she shivers. "Go to sleep, Carm."

I roll my eyes and toss the chocolate bar wrapper on the floor; the black paper rustles as it hits the tile and Laura makes an indignant noise in the back of her throat. I give her a pointed look before pulling myself onto the counter, legs crossed and dangling over. "I'm a vampire, you dimwit." A small smile works on my lips despite how rueful I'm feeling. "I don't sleep at night."

She grumbles again, yawning, before slouching back onto her bed and closing her eyes. "Try not to blow up the dorm while I sleep," she mumbles, and then she's out.

I fold my arms over my chest, and I stay there all night— watching her, which sounds like some sort of assailant. But I can't help how… endearing she is, in her lackwit way. And genuinely caring.

And dammit, she's just like Elle, but even more so. She riles me.

I've been alive centuries. I can pick up emotions better than anything— a shift of eyes, a short sigh, the sleight of her hands— all of those were blaring signs to me. I'm no idiot— I could see, clear as day, her reactions whenever I made a passing sultry comment, anything. She would blush, cheeks burning the palest pink, hands twisting her lap.

The sun soon rises, hours winging by on black wings. My eyes shift to the window, and I see pale stars winking out in the navy sky, streaked with gray clouds. Everything is covered in white drifts, and snow is still flurrying down, blowing against the window and frosting it an opaque gray that ices against my fingers coldly. I clench my jaw as my eyes dart down to a figure struggling through the snow outside.

It's Will.

I can pick out details with my sharp vision from here— the shadowy bruise on his jaw, the way his dark eyes are hard as black metal, the snow flecking his black hair in startling contrast. There's a triumphant look that twists his face in a leer and that can only lead to one conclusion, one that makes my heart beat louder in my ears.

He must have gone to Mother and ratted me out.

Dammit.

I'm unaware of my fists clenching, digging into cold skin as I control my breath and slam the curtains over the window. If she comes for me, it will all come crashing down. She'll force me back into the coffin under the earth, and she'll never let me out, and she'll kill Laura slowly and excruciatingly—

Surprisingly, it's the last one that makes me the sickest of all, makes my stomach churn, something coiling tightly inside me. I gasp a shuddering breath before steeling myself and making my way to Laura's bed, gently shaking her awake. She mumbles something in her sleep, rolling over and pulling the pillow closer to her, hair fanning out in a dull honey color. I shake her rougher, and her eyes snap open, the chocolate brown irises locking onto mine. She smiles a little and sits up with a yawn. "What?"

"I think…" My mouth feels too dry, crawling with a bitter taste, and my stomach is lurching and God, why is this happening? "I think Mother is coming."

Instantly all the signs of sleep are wiped from her face to be replaced with panic, dread, and heartbreak. "No! No, no, no… this is not good!"

"I saw Will walking back from her office."

My heart feels like it's being crushed under a scaffold of darkness (God, how cliche) as I look at her.

I won't lose Laura. I can not be loved back. I can be just her friend. I can be a monster.

But I will not lose her, or I will lose myself.


	3. Chapter III

**CHAPTER THREE**

_Hi guys, I'm so pleased at the feedback I've gotten! _

_I found a song I think would fit from Carmilla to the late Elle. It's 'My Immortal' by Evanescence. Go listen ASAP _

x-x-x

She looks too worried.

I dig the heel of my foot in the cold sheets, elbow propping on the headboard so I can cast a sweeping gaze over the redhead Trio currently crashing our dorm.

Normally I'd pop out with a snarky "What the hell are you doing here," and they would flee, but today is different. I'm not listening to whatever they're babbling about— I never do— but I can see they're all worried. It reads in the furrow of their brows, the shadows in their eyes.

Maybe I'm just being pathological, but they all look a lot more strained than usual, and that makes me feel a _(small, mind you)_ amount of guilt.

My stomach churns, little waves of heat rushing through me. The familiar symptoms of vampiric hunger are not pleasant at all— tense stomach, feverish skin, and shaky hands. I cast a baleful glare at the redhead dimwits still chattering away like a covey of chickadees.

How absurd they are.

I mutter a curse under my breath as Laura turns to me with questioning eyes. "Carmilla?"

"What?" I snap, feeling angry at myself as she recoils slightly with a look of hurt in her eyes.

"Perry and LaFountaine took more samples of the— parasite thing that's on the letters in Sarah Jane and Natalie's room, and they found out that it's some sort of spinal fluid regrowth..."

"Which means…?" I say slowly, a slight pang of horror filling me as I realize what that, in fact, does mean.

"Yep," LaFountaine says disgustedly, "It's your brain sac."

"Oh my God!" Laura cries. ""You mean I touched Betty's…" She trails off, her face scrunching up in disgust as if the notion makes her sick: which, in all reality, it does to me too.

I shudder a little, before a repulsive idea occurs to me.

_Elle. _

I haven't thought of her in so, so long— it's too painful, even now, to remember her, remember what I'd done.

It was all my fault. With her angular face and her golden laugh and her pale skin— it's almost as if a blade is being wedged in my sternum, making every breath a struggle just as feelings come rushing back in dizzying torrents. I killed her, all because I couldn't bear the thought of living without her. If I had just left her alone, maybe Mother might not have…

I stifle the thought before I spin out of control. Elle was my everything once upon a time. Now she's little more than a faded memory that traces pain through my heart, lingering, but gone.

I shake my head slightly, blinking back to the present where LaFountaine is eyeing me like I hold information. "Do you know anything?"

"I don't know about parasites!" I say defensively. They give me a disbelieving look and I roll my eyes. "I'm a vampire, not a guinea worm," I add, while the gears of thought whir into action. "I don't know what she's doing with them. Whatever happens to the victims happens _after_ she takes them." i

"You don't know anything at all? Maybe an odd sign? Something that struck you as queer?"

"Sure," I snap, recent memories striking painfully at something deep within me. "Let's just dissect my deeply painful past in excruciating detail!" I rise from the bed and stalk out angrily, hearing their faded murmurs die away behind me.

I probably shouldn't have lashed out like that, but…

Posterity doesn't get it! I'm bound by oaths older than this world, and for all the years I've struggled through— one would think that would toughen my spirit, make me resilient against harm and heartbreak.

Instead, it's done the opposite.

I find myself striding outside into the flurrying snow that whirls down from the thick steely clouds muffling the sky. It doesn't look like it will let up anytime soon, with streaks of black weaving through paler gray, and the stinging cold feels good against my heated skin.

As a vampire— despite those inane, ludicrous myths— I don't need human food to survive. Can I eat it? Indeed. I can stand extreme temperatures, like this cold, without having to wear a coat or those dimwitted gloves or anything.

My feet crunch through the frost, little white crystals swirling down to wrap me in a blinding storm of white.

Laura. She's such an infernally vexing little frosh. Even so, she's irritatingly adorable, and very endearing.

Dammit.

I swipe a cold hand across the ends of my hair, knocking little flakes that disappear into the wind. I really should be getting back inside, even though I don't want to trek all the way back through the snow, up the stairs, and back to the dorm to interrogated by the redhead twins again. Even the slightest hint of my past being dug up stirs an unbearable, excruciating pain within me— one that shatters whatever rebel facade I have and breaks me down.

I heave out a breath that wisps out and curls in smoky color in the frigid air before turning and trudging through the soft drifts that fall away under my feet. I can hear laughs and shouts off in the distance— more likely than not, it's some drunken university twats downing shots in the snow— but I ignore them and mount the steps to the University doors. The concrete is layered with a thin sheen of ice, crunching under worn, scarred combat boots as I yank open the double entrance. A warm breath of air rolls over me, chasing away the cold as the doors slam with a muffled 'thud' behind.

I slowly walk up to the dorm 4C, snow dripping and melting off my hair. Night has fallen by now, stars glimmering through the window as I crack open the door and step inside. The lights are off, save for the fiery glow of the small lamp by Laura's bed. As I stalk to the kitchen, reaching out and turning on the lamp, my eyes flick over to where LaFountaine and Laura are sitting on the bed with a movie softly playing. I see Laura is fast asleep. She's whimpering and making pained cries in her sleep, her feet nearly upsetting the bowl of popcorn as she flails out.

"What the hell?" LaFountaine croaks, roused from her slumber by the sudden light filling the room. She's looking at Laura and I freeze, heart tightening as I see her, concern panging through me. She's crying out and her breath is coming in heavy, broken pants as she twitches.

"Hey," I breathe, rushing to the bedside and gently shaking her. "Laura, Laura. Laura! Wake up. You're dreaming. It was just a dream."

I realize it's the first time I've ever called her by her name but I'm worried, _dammit,_ she shouldn't be having these infernal dreams anymore!

She jerks up, eyes snapping open, breath still fast and heavy as she heaves, slumped over on the bed. Her eyes slide over me— almost traumatized, horrified— and she chokes out as I murmur worriedly in her ear. "Blood. There was blood everywhere again… filled the room until it was an ocean… and above it, this light—"

I freeze, eyes widening as my grip tightens on her arm, hand on between her shoulder blades.

"Nothing should shine like that," she continues in a choked voice. "Like the _rotted heart of the world_—"

"So that's not creepy," LaFountaine says in a guarded tone. "Do you still think these are the dreams that means she's been chosen?"

I shake my head sharply. I know my unfazed mask is crumbling away, because I'm actually worried as hell. "She shouldn't be having these dreams anymore," I insist, voice dropping. "The charm should have chased the vampires away."

I thought that would protect her.

"I don't think it's a vampire," she says softly, her eyes pools of melted chocolate as she gazes up at me in fear. "It's the girl. The girl in the nightdress."

She looks shell-shocked, terrified.

_Fuck._

"You saw her?" I say incredulously. I'm hoping— praying— that it isn't true, while my heart pounds a steady rhythm in my chest like a trapped bird.

"I think so… she was— she was in the room as the blood rose… she didn't even try to swim. Why didn't she try and swim?" Her voice rises and I can see the first traces of hysteria in her tone and I reach for her arm to ground her. Look at me.

"Did she say anything?"

"No!" Then, "Maybe… maybe not to go into the light because the light was… was _hungry?"_

"Awesome," LaFountaine says in horror, "Cause I didn't need to sleep again, like, ever."

"That's everything she said?" My voice is rising in pitch, demanding, eyes intent as I study her, peering at her like she can yield the answers I so desperately crave.

"I think… I'm _sorry,_" she blurts. She tenses at my touch and in her eyes I can see the first shimmer of tears. "You've asked about her before. It's—" A small breath draws in her chest and she gives me a look that makes me want to jump off the highest building to die below, a look that irreparably shatters something deep within me, making my hands quake and heart pound ever faster. "It's… Elle? Isn't it?"

I turn away sharply, creaking across the boards to my bed as my fingers dig into my palms _(as if I could hold onto myself that way)_ and spark pain along sweaty skin. "I don't know," I say, my voice rasping with pain, shrugging as if it doesn't bother me. "I've never seen her." My heart gives a great, vicious roar of agony, and if vampires could cry, I would screaming on the floor right now. "The girls Mother took… talked about her sometimes. A little girl with a— a mole right here?" I brush a shaking finger to my cheek, my throat tightening as the image of her blossoms in my head, clear as day. "She's— never tried to say anything to me."

"W-who are we talking about now?" The ginger one says warily, eyes darting between us.

"Her ex," Laura says quietly. I keep my head bowed, fist clenched on my lap as she shoots me a sorrowful look. "Kind of. She got taken a long time ago." She looks at me, brow furrowed. "Maybe she can't get to you. Maybe it's a— a non vampire thing."

"Sure," I mutter, eyes hooded as I stare at the floor, hand curling in upon itself.

"'The light is hungry,'" LaFountaine cuts in. "Not to be fascinated with creepy things, but maybe it's a clue. Maybe it has something to do with the second stage of the parasite."

"Could be," Laura says doubtfully. "But how are we gonna cross reference some ancient evil light with weird brain worm parasite— oh no…"

"Yep," LaFountaine says cheerily, "We're going to the sub basements. Buckle up, Hollis."


	4. Chapter IV

**CHAPTER FOUR  
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_EPISODE 28 OF CARMILLA MY FUCKING GOD JUST KILL ME_

_THE FEELS_

_THE FEELS_

HOLLISTEIN IS *PRACTICALLY* CANON BABY YES

X-X-X

_Darkness clouds blackly over my vision as I choke for breath, thick, hot blood pouring down from the ceiling. A desperate scream emanates from some bestial place inside me, abruptly cutting off as the red, oily liquid fills my mouth, eyes, nose, drowning me in the most horrifying way imaginable. _

_I flail for the surface, finally breaking the top of the sticky tide of death. It pulls at my clothes, a too-sweet, rotting scent filling the air: the smell of death, metallic, coppery, tangy and all too real. Blood stretches away in every direction— a vast, red ocean that laps and whispers at me, swirling and awful, currents tugging at my feet. _

_My eyes sear suddenly as a bright, too white light bursts to life above me, shining eerily and pulsing sickeningly. Tendrils of golden, sparking brilliance snake toward me, clutching at my clothes: wherever they touch, stinging agony shoots through me. _

"_Don't go into the light!" A shrill voice cries from far off, soft and agonized. "It's hungry, Laura! Don't go into it!" _

_I straddle away, legs and arms madly thrashing through the thick, scarlet currents. My eyes blink away the blood and I see a girl floating on top of the surface, dark stains spreading across her white nightdress as she calls at me, vermillion streams cascading from her arms, legs, hair. _

_Why isn't she swimming? She should be swimming! _

_I gasp and choke and fall under the surface, before_

waking.

I choke several lungfuls of air before my heartbeat finally starts to slow and my intake of oxygen steadies. Moonlight dapples a square silver patch on the floor, and I lay back with my eyes on the ceiling. I can still almost feel the sticky red liquid covering my skin, clutching and pulling me down, and I find myself passing a hand over my arms to brush off what isn't there, what felt so real.

I soon become aware of a small, sad, soft sound in the dark. My eyes cast around, probing, until I finally locate the sound to be coming from Carmilla's bed.

I quickly throw back the covers and roll out, swiftly making my way over to her side of the room. I'm standing over her bed with the lamplight dimly illuming the room. She's slumped over on the bed, sobbing— I don't even think she's aware of me, but either way, I'm sitting down beside her, close— I pull her tightly, hold her closely to me so I can feel her heartbeat and her muffled shaking cries as she curls into me.

"I'm here," I whisper. "It was just a dream, Carm. It was just a dream."

She looks up with bloodshot eyes, tears making her eyes smoky and hazed, deep dark orbs of pain. "Nightmare," she croaks out. "B-but Elle was still there— only a memory… Why won't she come to me?" Her voice breaks. "Why won't these memories just go away, _dammit_, why does she keep haunting me?" Her voice rises in a hysterical wail of pain.

And it kills me to see how heartbroken she looks, the shattered light deep in her eyes, how she falters on her words.

"It's okay," I murmur, stroking her hair. She doesn't push me away or say anything for a while and I continue to hold her close, listen to her heartbeat— which probably makes me sound creepy but I can't help but feel a deep warmth inside whenever I go near her, and seeing her this way hurts something within.

Then, she looks over at me with quaking hands and blurred, smudged eyes. "Will you stay with me?" Her voice is low and husky, rasping with unshed tears, like she's afraid I might vanish, too. "Just for tonight?"

"Of course," I say without even giving it a thought. She gives a small upward turn of her mouth in return, tears still streaking her face dark, pulling me down with her as she draws me closer. She's not cold, just warm and comforting and in need of me.

I don't have a nightmare again that night.

X-X-X

**Carmilla's POV **

**(**_the previous night) _

"_You're a monster!" _

_Her eyes are dilated in fear, pinpricks of white in the night, and her hands quake erratically as she backs away from me, consternation thick in her gaze, palpable in the murky air around me. I shake my head, pleading, reaching for her. Hot tears stream down my face and my heart is eerily still, and the darkness is choking and I can't see through the pain and heartbreak blurring my eyes— _

"_Stay away!" she shouts, thick honey hair __voluminous__ in the dark, framing wide eyes full of alarm, and all the love she once gave me— all the golden dales we sat in, the words we spoke, the promises we made, the stars we watched, the secrets we whispered, the touches and skin and her lips and eyes and laughter and _God _it hurts so bad_— _ is burnt away to a sour fear and hate of what she doesn't understand._

"_No," I croak. My stomach churns. Her eyes burn into mine, hazel flecked with blue. My special blues, guarded, locked away. "Elle, no— it's not what you think—"_

"_Get away from me!" she shrieks as I draw closer, eyes flying open, tripping over the floor in her haste to get away. "I don't know you!"_

"_Elle," I say. I'm practically sobbing now. "Elle, please, no, I love you—"_

"_I hate you, Mircalla!" She's shouting now, tears streaking her face, pressed against the wall, chest heaving. "I hate you!" _

_I stagger to the floor, shaking my head, something within me shattering irreparably, the shards of my heart spraying out as a hand grips my lungs and twists them so I cannot breathe. I'm dying dying dying— _

_Then a thick darkness smothers me and I'm plunged into another time. _

"_I have no choice but to punish you, Mircalla, for your disobedience to the plans," Mother says coldly to me, Elle crying out behind her as Will holds her in a forceful grasp, leering at me. His eyes are cold and he runs a callused hand over her neck, scarred arms flexing tautly as he grips her neck. I spit and writhe in the steel bonds that hold me to the wall, Elle's choked cries piercing within me. _

_Even if she did betray me, even if my heart is shattered now, I can't let anything happen to her— I can't— _

"_Mircalla!" she screams shrilly. "Help me! Mircalla! Help!"_

"_No!" I shriek, thrashing in the steel cuffs, cold metal biting into my wrists and chafing them an angry red. "Elle! _Elle!_ No!" _

"_It's too late."_

_Mother's voice is eerily quiet and controlled as she smiles— I can only think of bears. Wolves. Foxes. Snarling at their prey before the killing blow. _

"_Take her away." Mother snaps at Will. He chuckles huskily, eyes hungry as he rakes them over her before hauling her to her feet and leading her from the room. Her dying screams— her pleas, the broken cries of my name— echo along the corridor before all is quiet, broken only by my panting gasps. _

"_I'm so sorry," I choke out a sob as her last scream dies away. "Elle. I'm so sorry."_

"_You will waste away your long centuries in the dark," she whispers, turning back to me. Her fangs flash in the dark as she smiles halfway. "You will never see the light again. All this— for _love. _You _fool, _Mircalla, you simpleton_. _Maybe this will teach you that vampires _are not meant to love. _You are weak, Mircalla, and you will be weak forevermore, and this I say: you will be locked away with your memories, and then your tendency will burn away. Love is a mistake."_

_X-X-X_

_Thick darkness, still and smooth and soundless, surrounds me. Nothing moves. Nothing makes sound. All is quiet and cold and frozen in time. _

_Somewhere, deep in the slowed senses of my mind, I'm aware of a shaking, loud rumble. I haven't heard anything in decades. Just the slow, steady pounding of my heart. It's quiet here. Nothing but me and my thoughts. No light pierces the choking dark. _

_I've been wasting away for decades in this black hell. _

_It comes suddenly. _

_One moment, I'm floating in the dark, the next, light light light is blinding me, white rays exploding from the very centre of me, my __emaciated b__ody thrown up from the very fathoms of the earth as a bomb explodes. _

_War has been raging over where I lay and now I am freed. The coffin is blown to little more than dust, my prison destroyed as I fly back from where a bomb has freed me from the coffin below the earth. _

_The darkness is gone to be replaced by blinding sunlight and as I tilt my head back, dark vermillion blood streaming from my clothes, hair, pores, I gasp my first breath in centuries. _

_And then I fall to my knees as tears break from eyes that have been closed for years, and I speak for the first time in what feels like eternity._

"_Elle."_

_I've been reborn again and nothing has felt more painful. As bombs rent the air around me and debris swirls in a tornado, wrapping me in its deadly embrace, I finally allow myself to cry. _

My eyes fly open from the hellish memories, transformed into a reoccurring nightmare. I pass a hand over my irises, feeling oddly numb, darkness lapping at the edges of my vision, the eerie red glow of the ball-lamp throwing scarlet ripples over the sheets.

Then the dreams come rushing back. And with it, the pain, not lessened by time but multiplied and aged, set in stone.

I heave a breath, chest tense and tight, my eyes burning with the familiar sensation that comes before a breakdown.

Then I'm sobbing, clutching the (yellow) pillow beneath me, fingers fisting in the soft cloth that smells of cinnamon and vanilla. Even the comforting scent of Laura cannot calm me down.

_Elle was like cinnamon too. _

I hear a choked gasp come from the other side of the room, before a few, tense moments of silence. Then the soft whisper of feet reaches my ears and she's sitting beside me, a small, warm hand on my arm, sheltering me.

"I'm here." Her voice is hushed and murmured, breath stirring the hair over my ear as she presses beside me, the bed squeaking as it takes her weight. "It was just a dream, Carm. It was just a dream."

I shake my head, aware— painfully so— of how weak I am right now. "Nightmare," I say, voice catching in my dry throat. "B-but Elle was still there— only a memory… Why won't she come to me?" The pitch cracks as I shake my head, eyes finding my feet as I wring my hands together. "Why won't these memories just go away, _dammit_, why does she keep haunting me?"

"It's okay, Carmilla." Her voice is the promise of comfort, healing as she traces small circles on my back with her palm. I stay silent, lost in the moment, with the quiet _tick tick _of the clock and Laura's breath warm against my bare shoulder and her body curved against mine.

"Will you stay with me?"

The words are out before I can stop them or before my mind gives any consent to say it, and I flinch a little before adding in a stronger tone, "Just for tonight?"

"Of course," she replies right away, hand stopping just on the ridge of my spine as her dark eyes— doe eyes, I think, sunlit ponds— search mine before she lays back against the pillow. She doesn't say anything. I've stolen it countless times— letting her believe I'm doing it to irritate her, when in actuality, I'm doing it because her scent and the thing of hers, comforts me.

Her back curls against my stomach and I place a hand just below her torso, the first fingers of sleep already grasping me.

The last thing I see before my eyes shut are hers.


	5. Chapter V

**CHAPTER FIVE**

_So, um, yeah. I kind of died. After last night's episode. -mumbles- they were clearly about to kiss until that goddamn Dean possessed Laura, so... I'm really disappointed.  
>I have 20 favorites, 33 followers, and 16 reviews—let's try and bump it up to 24, hey? <em>

I don't know what wakes me up— the sunlight never does, obviously, and alarm clocks are wasted on me— but I think it must be _her. _

Her chest rises and falls softly with breath, face washed in golden rays from the open curtain. The light is pale and wavering, and I can see it must be about to storm or snow again as opaque shadows shift across her face.

A small smile ghosts across my lips as I see her soft expression, unmarred by any hint of a nightmare or troublesome dream. She's just sleeping quietly, pressed against me, that idiotically tranquil smile on her face as she breathes evenly.

I become aware of our position seconds later— her legs are hiked up under the bed, knee pressed firmly against my lower stomach, one arm thrown across my chest as if she's trying to keep me near even in dreams. My left hand is just barely touching her cheek and I can feel— hypersensitive, almost— wherever her skin touches mine.

I cast back in memory and frown a little. I didn't have a nightmare tonight— which in itself is very queer.

Maybe it's because of her.

She stirs a little, hair shifting and falling in sheet over my hand. I find myself unconsciously brushing a hand over her cheek, eyes wandering over the dip of her nose, the shadowy curve of her jaw, the spot where her pulse pounds in her neck—

Unconsciously, I feel two sharp pricks at the tip of my tongue, the inside of my lower lip. I can tell even without having to run my tongue over them that my fangs have grown— slightly elongated canine teeth, nothing major, but deadly all the same.

I force them back, quickly looking away from her and thinking of things that make me sick. Soon they subside, slipping back into my gums.

A small yawn, a stirring in the air, alerts me to the awakening of Laura. A goofy smile splits across her face when she sees me, eyes sparkling in the faint sunlight as she rolls over, arm sliding off my ribs to drift over my hair before she withdraws.

"Hey, wake up," I whisper, shaking her gently. She blinks open large, liquid brown eyes, full of warmth as she yawns and sits up.

"I didn't have a nightmare," she says. Her voice is pleasantly surprised, thick with sleep as she rubs her eyes.

"Good." I check to make sure the leathery black batwing is still tied to her wrist. "Come on, get up, we have classes today."

"No," she groans before rolling out of the bed and hitting the floor with a thump and an 'ow!'

"Stop whining and let's go," I chuckle.

We make it out of the (rumpled) bed and outside without incident. It's stopped snowing— the sky is a crisp, sharp blue, feathered with cirrus clouds. The air bites chillily into me, sun dazzling off the snow drifts and melting the thinner areas. The college freshman are shrieking and some of them run around, fooling about in the snow as couples stroll down the campus paths and busy students rush past with espressos and bookbags.

"So_ what's_ with the sudden change of heart?"

Laura's voice jerks me back to the present. She's clad in a thick parka, brown boots clopping against the frozen sidewalk as she perks a brow at me, eyes squinted against the glare of the sun.

I step through the thawing snow, brown boots crunching over the grass. Thick, dark elms claw at the sky, little brown leaves still curled against the ridged bark as I smile. Cold wind whistles past us, blowing my hair back and flapping the sleeves of my jacket as I shift my book bag.

"You should just trust me, cupcake."

"Well, you know—" she laughs, her voice catching on cold air that chafes my throat raw. "You could always try to exsanguinate me. We don't know if you have nefarious intentions or not." Her tone is teasing and I roll my eyes, plaid jacket ruffling in the increasing gale that sweeps my hair back so it straddles my shoulders. Little honey colored wisps spray out across her forehead and a thick sheet of golden hair, streaked with brown, falls to her shoulders as she smiles at me.

"If I wanted to eat you, creampuff, I would have done so long ago," I say, not bothering to change the sultry way my words sound, and I laugh huskily as her cheeks burn a pale pink, mouth falling open.

"I— I— "

"You totally have a crush on me," I murmur under my breath, a little cloud of steam puffing out like vapor, drifting away in the freezing air. "Lovely, Hollis, very lovely_ indeed_."

Her jaw literally drops, eyes widening. "I— I just," she sputters, and I notice how she doesn't deny it, "Maybe," she finishes meekly, cheeks burning a bright red as she focuses on her boots to avoid looking at me.

I pause, one of my teeth tearing a hole on the inside of my cheek as I cock an eyebrow at her. The tang of blood shivers across my tongue and I have to bite hard to prevent my fangs from flashing out. "My features must be undeniably attractive, then. What happened to the tall ginger and you, hm?"

"I don't like Danny like that!" she exclaims. "We're just friends." Her cheeks are still red, snow white skin hazed over strawberry, and she scuffs the ground, looking away, something flickering the deep pools of her eyes.

"And I'm a little something more?" I murmur.

She blushes furiously and picks up the pace, crunching in the snow. I laugh loudly before following, wind whipping back my hair as I place a hand on her shoulder. I can feel her heartbeat pulsing wildly through my hand and a slow smirk curls my lip as I tilt my head, searching her eyes as she freezes.

"Yes," I decide with a smug look, "You have a legitimate crush on me, Hollis."

And as I stalk off proudly, hips swaying, I can feel her soft eyes on me.

I enter the low brick building, the shilling roof sagging slightly over the glass double doors. College sophomores and juniors stream in and out and I slip into the flow, casting my eyes down as I swing right and shove open the heavy door to the Literature Room, A3. A blast of orange-scented air hits me, soft and warm— it's all too easy to doze off in this class, and I speak from experience.

There's no one in yet. I'm surprisingly early, which is a first; usually, I'm late to all my classes.

A small, awkward cough alerts me to the presence of another in the room, and my eyes snap up to see Danny— I always forget she's the Lit. Teacher's TA— standing by the mahogany desk at the front of the room, her green eyes sharp and the slightest bit angry.

"Oh, look," I drawl, dragging the 'o' out lazily. "It's the tall brainiac."

"_Look,_ Karnstein," she spits, cutting straight to the chase. Her jaw is set and her eyes narrow sharply, piercing, words clipped as her mouth barely moves, nostrils flaring. "If you think that you can manipulate Laura into whatever kind of _mind game_ you're playing to take her for the Dean—"

"Wo-oah," I cut in furiously, feeling my hands clench and ears roar with heat. "Excuse me? I hate to cut the heroic act you've got going, creampuff, but she's not the one being manipulated here. I am doing my _very best_ to keep her out of harm's way, while you— what are you doing besides running around, acting the hero and battling the Zetas with your little Summer Society? That doesn't do a lick of good to anybody, much less Laura. I suggest you just try to keep yourself safe from Mother instead of whining about Hollis. She's safe. I've ensured that."

Her brows carve a cleft over her nose, eyes flaring with heat as she slaps a stack of papers on the dark wooded desk. "Since when have given a damn about her?"

My nonchalant front falters and shatters as I look away, something clenching within me. I recall her warm brown eyes and honey colored hair. I think of her laugh— how it chimes like bells, of her lopsided smile, her shy glances.

"Fuck off," I say decisively.

She lets out a short huff and any reply she has is cut off by the door swinging open with a loud creak and the loud, bustling class pouring through. She turns away and busies herself with the stack of crumpled papers on the teacher's desk.

I slouch down in my seat, propping my feet on the desk in front of me and glaring resentfully when Danny gives me an angry glance.

"Shoes off, dead girl."

I remove one boot, pointedly leaving the other on the desk and raising an eyebrow. She clearly decides not to fight me on it, as she turns away with a loud _'huff'. _

I can already feel that today is going to be a long day with Hollis.

X-X-X

_Laura's P.O.V_

x-x-x

I slump on the bed and groan loudly, trying not to think of the mountain of homework currently laying on my desk beside the laptop. The camera is blinking red— indicating it's dead and off— and I know I should charge it and turn it on, but at the moment, I couldn't care less.

"I _hate_ chemistry," I groan, muffled, my face buried in my pillow. The yellow fabric smells of Carmilla—a smell I can only describe as night, a sharp, wild, lonely scent that reminds me of mountains rearing against a lightless black sky. It only smells like that, presumably because she has been swiping it for days on end.

"Why are you on my bed, cupcake?" A loud creak, the dip of the bed, and a cold hand brushing my own announces that she's sitting beside me.

"I got tired and your bed was closer," I say into the pillow, not needing to look up to recognize Carmilla's silky purr.

"Are you certain it isn't because you were pining over me and you threw yourself on my bed to alleviate your aching heart?"

"N-no!" I sputter, the vehemence on the word lost as my jaws split in a wide yawn.

"Uh-huh," she says in an unconvinced tone.

"Must be nice not to have to do any homework because you're a couple centuries old," I growl, glaring at her. She smiles slightly, one edge of her lip curling higher than the other, and my anger melts away as I shake my head before biting my lip.

"It gets boring sometimes," she comments softly, so softly I'm not entirely sure I was meant to hear. "The same meaningless life… month after month… year after year…" When I look up in surprise, I see she's tucked her knees up to her chin and is staring distantly at the floor. Her eyes are almost black in the dim light, face veiled in shadow.

"And I don't spice things up a little?" I say, attempting a light tone.

She looks up, eyes flashing with a light that scares me. "Yes, you do."

"And to think just a couple weeks ago, we were fighting," I chuckle, feeling the tension that is palpable in the air.

"Don't stress about sudden change, cupcake," she says lazily, words rolling off her tongue, "I still haven't cleaned out the shower drain,"

"I expected nothing less from you."

She doesn't reply, instead, she leans back and lets out a long sigh. I look at her and she looks back, eyes despondent, her next words sudden and sorrowful.

"What are we doing?"

"I believe we're sitting on your bed," I say quietly.

"_No."_ She sits back up, sharply, eyes searching mine. "Just—this. All of it." Her breath rattles in her chest, eyes flaring with anger. "I hate that this is happening," she whispers. "I really do. Why you? Why couldn't she have targeted anybody else?"

Her eyes are full of frustration and her hand grips my hand, studying me. "I thought you hated me," I whisper, my heart slamming against my ribs.

"Dammit, cupcake." She stands suddenly, back to me as she stalks across the little space of the dorm, the red glow of the ball-lamp throwing rippling lights over her shoulder blades— reminding me of jagged, broken wings. Her hair is a shadow that gleams against pale skin as she turns back, face full of a terrible rage— and I notice, with a hollow thump of my heart, two sharp, bone white fangs are on either side of her mouth as she bares her teeth much like a wolf would. "You really don't get it, _do _you?"

I can only stare back.

With a whirl of paper and a slam of the door, she's gone.


	6. Chapter VI

**CHAPTER SIX**

The night is dark and thick, fluffy snowflakes are swirling across the courtyard in a blinding gray storm — the chaos resembling the state of my thoughts right now— as I burst from the double doors and into the cold. The trees are rustling and groaning in the wind that that whistles past, carrying spirals of snow and dead leaves. My heart is pumping in my throat and I can feel hunger clawing through my stomach and cold pulses through me—

"Carmilla, wait!"

That damn _voice _of hers.

Despite my every instinct telling me not to, and the hollowness in my stomach, I skid to a halt, ice crunching beneath combat boots. A lightness is beating behind my skull, and I'm _dangerously_ close to the edge, darkness yawning through me.

She approaches through the dark, a beige coat covering her arms. Despite the obvious lengths she went to to cover her skin, the numbskull isn't wearing a scarf.

The deities must really be against me.

I rip my hungry gaze from where her pulse pounds in her neck and force myself to meet her gaze, panic speeding through me as my fangs silently slide out and prick my lower lip.

"I didn't mean," she says softly, approaching like one would walk toward an angry cat, "to upset you."

I swallow, throat dry, eyes flickering to her sternum as my fangs pulse with need.

"I just—_!" _

It happens within not even the space of a second as any shred of reason I have snaps. My hands slam into her shoulders, shoving her against the glass wall of the Silas bus stop. Frost melts away from the dusty glass and we stand in the puddle of streetlight, golden rays marring shadows across us in the dark as her gasp is cut off.

Every thought is gone, a feral instinct tearing through me as I lose control of my thoughts and actions. Hunger takes over, masking any feeling as my fangs sink just below her jawline, piercing skin as blood hits my throat, hunger rippling through me.

My mind fogs over red, and I can feel weak hands battering at my shoulders before they subside.

"_Stop— _Carmilla—"

Her frail whimper jerks my mind back into control and I force myself away, fangs snapping from her neck as I gasp.

Instantly, horror plights me as I realize what I've done. She slumps to the ground, two sinister looking holes in her throat, blood welling out in scarlet drops. My stomach drops and I feel like I'm going to be sick.

I lost control and fed from her and _dammit— _

"_Laura! _No no no… come on… dammit, I didn't mean to—" I crouch down and hook my hands under her slender arms, pulling her from the stone cold ground. My heart stops as I hear how flutteringly weak her pulse is— how her head lolls to the side, eyes closed— how she moans softly and pushes against me in fear, barely conscious. Her hair falls limply over my arm and I inhale her scent as I haul her up.

"Come _on," _I snarl to myself, snow whirling down as I fold my arms below her knee's joints, other arm curling around her shoulder blades as I rush through the snow toward the doors, frantic. "If you die on me, cupcake…" I force the thought away, trying not to remember Elle.

_You're a monster! I hate you! _

_It's true, _I think numbly, as I stagger up the stairs, Laura's heartbeat pounding like a fading drum in my ears. _She probably hates me— what if I've killed her, because I couldn't control my _goddamn _hunger— _

Her breath rattles out, shuddering through her ribs. One eye flutters open, the chocolate brown iris dim as she gazes up at me, hardly there. Another hand crawls up her chest, a small moan of pain elicited from her as her hand touches the two wounds in her jugular.

I kick open the door of our dorm and gently place her on her bed. Her head falls to the side, a sickly pale against the yellow pillow as she exhales— painfully slow.

I press a cold finger to either side of my temple and try to recall what an ancient tome said on these matters. If she lost too much blood, it's over. But I don't think—

I move numbly, robotically through the room. Grabbing a soft roll of gauze from the bathroom, I head back to the bed with a steely determination. Ripping a strip of the white threaded cloth from the roll, I press it to her neck. It pales pink as it soaks up the blood.

I've fed from her twice now. What if— she can't die, I won't let her, but—

What if she hates me?

I shake my head before tightly pressing another sheaf of gauze to her neck and filling a cup of water and shaking her shoulder. Her eyes blink open, bleary, and she flinches in pain as her hand touches the gauze on her throat.

"Drink this, Laura." I keep my voice soft and soothing, trying to repress the bile that rolls up in my throat, repulsed as I remember that _I'm _the one who did this. "Please."

I tilt the clear glass back and her throat ripples as she swallows the water, her other hand shakily gripping my arm for support. Pale lamplight throws long-lashed shadows down over her cheeks, eyes hooded, unreadable. Finally— when she's done drinking the water— her eyes open, clear again, gazing directly at me.

"Why?"

Her voice is soft and frail, rasping in her throat as her breath hitches.

"God— I just lost control and I was angry and I couldn't control it, I just went off the edge and you were there and I would have done it to anybody else and I'm so _so, _sorry_, forgive me, _Laura, please—" My breath catches, stuttering in my chest, and my hands clench deep in the bedspread. I study her eyes, heart hollow as my eyes burn. "I'm sorry for— for feeding off you."

"Not…" She inhales again, rasping. "Not that. W-why… did you run out?"

I blink once. Twice. Unsure if I heard her correctly. Unsure if, out of everything that has transpired, that's what she's actually worried about? "What?"

"Earlier…" she coughs, starting over. "I thought you hated me."

I'm shaking my head sharply as she peers curiously at me. "No— God, no." I place a soft hand on her arm. "I digress. Are you all right?"

"My neck feels like crap, but I think I'll live," she murmurs. "Not that I'm ecstatic about basically being drunk from like a human juice box, but whatever…"

I force out a small chuckle. It's dry and catches in my throat, sounding more like a sob. "I'm sorry."

"I know." She struggles to sit up but I stop her.

"No. You're going to rest until you get better."

"But who'll take care of me?" she whines.

"I will, you dimwit." I ignore the flash of surprise in her eyes, surmising it to be just late shock, and snap at her, "Now go to goddamn sleep."


	7. Chapter VII

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

_This chapter has so much fluff. Jeez. _

**x-x-x  
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"You're coming whether you like it or not, Laura."

"But I don't _want _to," I whine, sounding much like a petulant child as I screw up my eyes before blinking at LaFountaine's unsympathetic face. "Danny's gonna see the bandaid on my neck and freak out and try to beat Carmilla up!" For emphasis, I throw my arm up wildly to where an Invader Zim bandage shields the slight throb of where Carmilla bit me. "Plus," I add mournfully, "it's a Winter dance. No one is going to ask me and it'll be odd if I go alone."

"I think a badass century old vampire can handle a tall, athletic college junior, Laura. And, crushes on vampires; I think you know who you want to go with." LaFountaine's hand rests on their hip, gaze firm as they stare at me. With a wink, they add, "I'm sure she'd be willing."

"I— I don't,_" _I sputter as I roll out of the warm rumpled sheets. "I just feel sorry for her, is all!"

"Sure, that's all there is, I'm certain. Now, it's in three nights on Friday— dress is casual— and you gotta bring 3$ for admission. I'll see you there, huh?"

"Yeah…" I grumble. They smile and leave, door slamming behind them.

I look into the mirror of the bathroom, groaning as I see my tousled hair and tired eyes. The fluorescent bandage glows eerily on my neck, pale skin showing underneath.

"What's got you so down, creampuff?" Carmilla yawns, emerging from the shower, eyes smudged dark as she towels her hair.

"There's a stupid winter dance on Friday," I grumble.

"Can't find a lover for a one night stand?"

"I-it's not a _one night stand!" _I sputter, angry at the devilish smirk that spreads across her face. "I— I just want to go, but—"

"You can't bear to spend the night all by your lonesome self, pining over your doomed love?" she rolls her eyes, deep dark orbs flashing in amusement. "Okay, then, since you clearly do not have the courage to ask yourself, you and I. We're going together, creampuff. Wear something that doesn't resemble a virgin sacrifice this time, and I'll skip out on the corset."

"That's not!— I just— but you—you didn't even ask!"

"Quite observant of you," she smirks, and then she's gone with a flash of speed, leaving me blushing and trying to calm my racing heart.

X-X-X

"I feel so out of place," I grumble to myself, picking at the ruffled hem of my olive tank. The sharp scents of alcohol and burning marshmallows wreathe the night air and I shiver. Perry insisted on coming by to help me get ready— she's going to spend the whole night fussing at everyone, I guarantee it— and now I feel way too dressed.

Dark blue jeans tightly hug my legs, a loose beige jacket covering my arms and blending with my golden hued hair— not a single hair out of place— so it cascades forward, little dapples of honey and brown carefully ghosting through my hair. A single silver bracelet intersects along my wrist. I took off the batwing last minute because, well, wouldn't want my date to be nauseous touching me—

_Date. Touching me. Dancing. _

Even the thought sends my stomach swooping in sickening spirals of nervousness.

Shadows play around the edges of the courtyard. The DJ is putting on a bass drop song, the thick chords thrumming through the yard, vibrating in my chest as I sweep a heavy gaze around the shrouded night. The glow of the campus is far off and oak trees spread bare branches to the sky. The air is wreathed with sharp scents of cold, a single bonfire smoldering and burning, throwing bright sparks upward into the night as stars shimmer far above. For a winter night, it's surprisingly decent— only sixty two degrees, the air carrying a crisp bite as wind swirls across, sending leaves skittering across to play about my feet.

Poles erected at each corner of the cobblestone courtyard drape paper-mache ball lights from string, the yellow spheres bright like lanterns as couples scream and laugh and dance and talk— so much music, so much noise, so much action.

"Someone's looking down."

I whirl as her voice murmurs right behind me, and my jaw drops.

Now I feel like I'll never be pretty enough.

A black sequined shirt hugs her frame, outlining her edges and angles. Eyeshadow smudges her eyes dark, catlike, smoky and brings out the gleam of a predator in her pupils. Leather pants ride her legs as she smirks at me, arms crossed.

She holds out a hand silently, smiling. "Shall we dance?"

"Indeed we shall." And I take it, flushing, as she tugs me into the throng of dancing couples.

A soft song whispers out across the courtyard and my eyes widen as I recognize the first beat. Surprise wings through me at the realization.

_Our lives are stores, waiting to be told_

_In search of silver linings, we discovered gold_

_And judgment taught us that our hearts were wrong_

_But they're the ones that we'll look down upon… _

Her hand presses into mind, her other palm burning against my waist as she glides me effortlessly across the yard, and the world narrows to us— just that, just it— her protecting hands on me, her soft dark eyes, her ghost of a smile as her hair swirls down her shoulders— the way her face is just as nervous as mine, the intensity in her features as we lightly dance to the song.

_The rules say our emotions don't comply_

_But we'll defy the rules until we die_

"I feel like you made them play this song," I murmur.

"You forget I have vampiric powers, cupcake." We twirl and her hand slides up my back, eyes sparking as her hand clasps mine tighter, thumb brushing over the back of my palm.

_So let's be sinners to be saints_

_And let's be winners by mistake_

_The world may disapprove_

_But my world is only you_

_And if we're sinners then it feels like heaven to me_

The stars glimmer down and the branches creak as wind whips briskly across the yard, swinging the mache lights and sending leaves skittering across the pavement as other dancers press into us, an ever shifting throng of lonely hearts looking to seek a little bit of light.

_You've showed me feelings I've never felt before;_

_We're making enemies, knocking on the devil's door— _

_But how can you expect me not to eat,_

_When the forbidden fruit tastes so sweet?_

_So let's be sinners to be saints_

_And let's be winners by mistake_

_The world may disapprove_

_But my world is only you_

_And if we're sinners then it feels like heaven to me_

I'm aware of nothing now— just the speed increasing, her body pressed to mine, flush against me. Her deep eyes. Her face. And it's all just fueling the fire pooling in my stomach— the one that only knows her name. And now my heart is only pulsing rapid-fire, _Carmilla Carmilla Carmilla— _

_Our hearts are too ruthless to break_

_Let's start fires for heaven's sake_

_Our hearts are too ruthless to break_

_Let's start fires for heaven's sake_

_Our hearts are too ruthless to break_

_Let's start fires for heaven's sake_

_Our hearts, are too ruthless to break— _

And I look into her eyes and it hits me with the force of a thousand rocks.

There's something about her that's ensnared me and there is absolutely _no _escaping from it.

_So let's be sinners to be saints_

_And let's be winners by mistake_

_The world may disapprove_

_But my world is only you_

_And if we're sinners then it feels like heaven to me_

_And if we're sinners then it feels like heaven to me… _

The song ends with her whirling me one last time, eyes soft as she pulls me close, lips whispering just above my pulse point as her hands wrap around me from the small of my back. It's a sign of trust, her being this close and not biting— an apology, a plea, an _I'll never hurt you again_.

My heart is slamming with enough force to shoot from my veins.

When we reach the dorm later that night, my hair tousled but a smile still springing to my lips, my heart is flipping in my chest with an unexplainable warmth that blossoms through me. I feel like liquid fire is thrilling through my veins, warming me up from head to toe— the feeling of hands pressed to my hip, other hand— still tingling along my skin.

"You look like you're on cloud nine. It's sickening." Her voice is right beside my ear, and I turn to see her cocking an eyebrow— a sharp arrow arching over dark eyes.

I turn, trying and failing to force the lopsided grin from my face. "Yeah."

"Why so elated?"

"Why so curious?" I shoot back.

She pulls me forward, eyes studying, dark hair framing her face in the lamplight. "You're infuriating, cupcake."

"Not infuriating," I say, breath hitching, "Just boring." I wonder if my excruciating awkwardness counts for anything— or the fact that my heart is racing a mile a minute as her tongue swipes across her lower lip, gleaming in the lamplight.

Her voice grows soft, barely a breath in the tense, silent air— tense as bowstring ready to snap. "You're very interesting in the right ways."

She's too close. Much too close. I can see the flecks of light in her dark irises and the way her lashes curl up and the way her hair shadows over her eyes and—

I don't know who initiates the kiss. I don't know what my thoughts are because the instant her lips brush against mine— feathers, butterfly wings, soft and gentle like she's afraid she'll break me— all thoughts fly out the window and there's just _us us us here this now you and me_ _right here right now._

Her hands are burning against my skin, leaving a trail of sparks against my hips as she jerks me closer, flush against her, body pressed tightly to mine. My hands find their way to her shoulders. They curve around the delicate slant of her sternum as her other hand cups my cheek, lips soft against mine, moving ardently, passionately against mine as she pulls me closely, gentle and protective and so careful.

I can feel her everywhere and it's too much and it's not enoughand I'm responding to her like I'm an instrument and she's the musician, strumming a melody, striking chords that have_ never _been struck before. Her hand moves from my cheek to tangle in my hair, warm fingers flaming on the nape of my neck, drawing me closer as she shivers against me, lips crushed against mine with a desire that I've never seen in her before.

I only draw back with a muted gasp, when white spots start to dance across my vision, signaling I need to breathe.

Her eyes are bright, liquid dark brown, tinged with gold as she heaves for breath, her hands still locked on my hip, rooted in my hair. When my tongue passes over my lower lip, I can taste her there— a sharp, chocolate flavor that quickly fades as she pulls me back against her, trademark dark smirk playing across her face, arching up an eyebrow, her dark tawny hair twirling in corkscrews down pale, flushed shoulders, laced with golden flashes. Her eyes are almost black with want, need, her breath coming in broken intervals.

As I watch, frozen, she presses back and then she's crashing against me, her hands burning against my waist, tongue running smoothly across my bottom lip as she recaptures me entirely, roughly, possessively.

Good _God. _

I would have thought kissing a vampire would be a sharp, metallic, bitter taste, ending up with me dead and drained dry, but no— she's sweet and gentle and soft and warm and so so so _real_ in every sense of the word. Her hands slip under my shirt, splaying cold across my heated skin, fingertips brushing across my ribs and taking the breath right out of me as she rakes them down my torso, eliciting a gasp from me. She smirks against my lips, slowly dragging her nails down. I can't hold back a broken whimper as she straddles me against the creaking bed, causing heat to pool in my stomach and course illicitly through my veins as her hands swim up my sides.

My body is pulsing with heat and I break away as my thoughts finally return from wherever they had disappeared to, rushing back and jerking me from the warm and safe cloud that seems to draw over me whenever I get close to Carmilla.

She's dangerous, but she also happens to be all I want— she's just her, dangerous and ageless and shrouded in mystery and pain, but I've seen what lies beneath that callous mask. It's a person as real as me, one that is hurting and needing comforting.

I just lie there, stuttering, a pale blush burning my cheeks as she detaches her hands from my hips and rakes a sweeping gaze up and down me.

"Oh my God," I breathe. Her fangs are out— not needle sharp or exaggerated, her canine teeth just look slightly sharper and elongated— and she's swiping a tongue over them much like a cat ready to pounce but I don't feel any fear— rather, there's a hot ball of heat in my stomach, making my heart pound as she sits up, still wearing her trademark wolf's grin.

"We're lucky the camera's off, creampuff," she says huskily.

*****

_So I gave you guys a kiss scene that (hopefully) did not suck that much? Will you return it with many reviews? C: I love guest reviews too, creampuffs c: _


	8. Chapter VIII

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

**Oh my goodness, I love you all to death 3 I'm glad I was the remedy to not-death after episode 33 ^^**

**lesbian-otps—Yeah, I try :)  
>JustErin—hooray, intense is what I was going for!<br>Ytger—thank you so much! It's my pleasure!  
>GothicPheonix—Thank you, and duly noted.<br>fruitfly50—I'm glad to hear it :)**

**IllegitimatePrincess—thank you, **_**cupcake. **_**Fitting that none of them do, seeing the title ;) **

**Manhattanpizza—Thank God xD**

**1sa—um, thank you? I'll take the string of letters as an excited squeal.  
>egm560—Always here to help :)<br>Senka—thank you~ **

**Arlenne0794—Angst kicks in soon, don't get too comfortable ;P  
>Anotherhumanbeing—thank you!<br>**

**X-X-X**

I swipe my tongue across my lips.

Strawberry.

And the flavor isn't mine.

She stares up at me, eyes astonished, intense, full of flame— lips shining in the lamplight and I'm again struck with the incredible urge to ravish her lips again and hold her and never let anything ever hurt her—

"What was— I just—"

I press a finger to her lips, say firmly, "hush," and then kiss her again. I feel the edges of her lips rise against my own in a smile.

"Yeah," she murmurs against my mouth, "I really think this crush isn't one sided."

I pull back to study her face, all too aware of her heartbeat like thunder. "You're not completely incorrect."

"So what are you gonna call me now?" That foolish, askew smile is still plastered on her face and she shifts underneath me. And it's then I know I'm completely and utterly screwed— only then, do I realize how goddamn in love with her I am.

"Not cutie or cupcake," I say decisively. "Mine. I'll call you _mine._"

"Did you— did you just—"

"Indeed."

"And you're telling me," she whispers in disbelief, "you've seduced thousands of others like this?"

"Hundreds, not thousands, and you were a tougher nut to crack_," _I say, and then she's kissing me furiously again. 

X-X-X

_Dark gusts of wind swirl through a shadowy tower turret, picking up leaves and sending them skittering across the cobblestone floor. Cold, stale air lingers in the darkened room, pale moonlight cast across the floor in a faltering triangle through a barred window. A black, ragged veil flutters in a breath of wind and the lonely call of a wolf echoes through the night, trailing off in the night to replaced by a steady whispering noise. _

_I look out through the window, a gleaming, starless lake stretching away in the distance. The moon throws a bright, glittering path on the rippling water, marred by roaring waves. A dizzying drop falls away below the window, the ledge cold to my hands as I look upon the ivy crawling up crumbling, mossy walls. _

_I whirl as a soft creak sounds in the silent room, the groan of a rusty door as it opens slowly. _

_A slender, angular shadow slips into the room— smoke colored, with glinting red eyes that emit a soft cherry glow in the dim light of the full moon. They blink, two solitary rubies— I feel an almost aura of winter, ancient and terrible. slip into the room with it._

_It's a graceful cat, with narrow shoulders and ribs and a plumy tail that flows out behind it. The wedge shaped head tilts in my direction, sleek tabby fur gleaming faintly in the gloom. _

"Laura."

_The voice is slightly familiar and even in dreams, I know cats cannot speak. _

"C—Carmilla?" _My voice falters in confusion as I gaze at at the cat. _

_A ringing silence pulses through the room. The eyes narrow, two slits in the dark, the tail twitching against the pale outline of the door. _"Incorrect, dearest." _The voice is sneering and haughty, sending chills down my spine as the quiet shikshik of claws scratching the stone floor registers. _

"You're her mother." _My voice is buzzing with conviction, startled. _"The Dean, then."

"How very observant of a mere human as yourself."

_Then with a flash of darkness, the cat disappears and a tall form takes its place. Deep, frigid dark blue eyes stare directly at me, and my heart slams in my throat, blood rushing to my ears._

_Vampire. And her mother. _

_Shadows swirl around her feet, a coldness chilling the air as she paces around me like a predator. When she speaks, two fangs glitter in the darkness. _"Do you really think yourself so eloquent, so surreptitious, clever that you could vanquish I?" _The voice is chilling and scornfully arrogant. "_You are but an infant in comparison to the age of I— my son— my daughter."

_Will and Carmilla._

"Do you honestly believe that Mircalla is capable of love?" _She says coldly, voice curling on the last word in disbelief. Her voice cracks like a whip, making me feel small and irrelevant. _"Are you that foolish to give credence to the idea she would choose you— a human who will age and die— over eternal life? That she could love you after the lesson she learned with another human girl, years ago? That she isn't one of us, as sure as the moon will rise and fall?"

_No, I think, quaking as she closes in. S-she's right, but… _

"I think not." _Her eyes flash with a light that scares me. "_Mircalla is wily and flighty and insubordinate, but you fail to remember that she is also of vampiric nature. She is mine, she is my diamond— my daughter. Is that really what you _love_?"_ Her voice snaps the last word condescendingly. Before I can reply, her hand shoots forward, nails digging into my neck, bringing her face up to mine. _"Stone cannot love flesh and blood, darling. You will be extinguished," _she whispers, deadly, my heart thudding hollowly. _"The new moon draws ever closer. And then, the light that devours will consume you and your meddling friends and you will see what love has brought oneself to."

"No." _My voice quavers on the word, and I force the tremor from my voice. "_Love is not a mistake. And Carmilla is— she's different from you and Will. She's not a monster."

_Instead of anger lighting her gaze, her face twitches in cold amusement, lip curling up to reveal sharp fangs. _"I shall let you believe that, dearest. I will let you believe that she would do the right over you. And now it is time to send you back to the waking world to see what delusions you have truly lain in all along." _Her hands unclick from my neck, shadows swallowing her up, and I gasp as I _

wake.

"Laura— hey?"

Two hands are placed on my shoulders, a pair of dark brown eyes peering worriedly at me. "You were crying out in your sleep and twitching. You kept muttering 'she's not a monster'." Her hair shadows over her pupils, dilated in the light. "It was just a dream, wasn't it? Are you all right?"

I find my mouth saying 'yes' but my head shaking no as a shiver runs down my spine, shuddering my teeth. The bed creaks as she sits on it, and I find myself slumping into her, her body freezing up at first but then relaxing as she slowly snakes an arm around my shoulder, other hand finding my own and rubbing small, reassuring circles on the back of my palm.

I rest my head in the pale crook of her neck, breathing in her comforting scent— night and stars— as her arms rest across my shoulders. Her lips press into my hair, feathering soft kisses— _it's all right, I'm here, I won't leave— _that leave a slow burning warmth smoldering through me, chasing away the cold terror of the dream.

Except now, I'm not sure it was a dream.

"I wish I could do something instead of sitting here like a damn rock," she murmurs into my hair, and I blink as I realize she's showing a rare side of vulnerability.

"LaFountaine says we have to wait until the new moon for the ritual to proceed, before we can do anything," I reply, even though I know that Carmilla's probably not concerned with it right now. I know I'm in danger.

But it's nice not to be reminded sometimes.

"They're not wrong." Her breath ghosts out and I feel her pull me closer, eyes full of sadness that stretches back ages and ages, a grief prolonged for years— memories swimming through her face.

Her lips press to mine, pulling me in for a single, long, deep kiss— her words are conveyed, things she cannot say— with that one silent contact.

She pulls away, her hand cupping my cheek, other stroking my hair. "You have to stay safe," she murmurs. "I can't lose anyone else. I just can't."

"Because of Elle?" I say, my voice slipping.

She stiffens before her voice says, almost to herself, "Elle is— she's dead. I loved her, but… she— she betrayed me, she didn't understand who I am— she was killed." She pulls me closer, almost as if trying to reassure herself that I'm real, that I'm not part of her imagination, cradling me as she rocks back and forth. Her hand tangles into my hair as her eyes cloud over. "And she's gone, I'll never see her again." Her voice is raw with unimaginable pain. "If that happens to you, I… she thought I was a monster and you… " Her voice trails off and I tug her hand, making her look at me.

"_Hey," _I breathe. Her eyes flicker up, dark with memory, as she quakes against me. "Carm… I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." I squeeze her hand, bringing her face closer to mine, and her nose touches mine as I stare deep into her eyes before whispering, "You're not a monster. Not to me. You've never been."

A ghost of a smile flits across her face, eyes glinting in the light as she presses her face into my hair, breath rattling out. I slip my arms across the small of her back, holding her close.

My heart warms as I realize, five minutes later, she's fallen asleep against me. 

X-X-X

_**I know all my reviewers now! If you're a guest reviewer, you are always welcome as well. I love you all :)  
><strong>_


	9. Chapter IX

**CHAPTER NINE**

_Nope. Just nope._

_I will not kill off Carmilla. I'll give y'all a happy ending. We can pretend this fic is the real thing instead. _

_X-X-X_

I wake up to gold.

At first, I haven't a clue where I am, but when the smell of mangos wreathing around me, a small form snoring beside me, the softness of her yellow pillow, reaches my senses, I can deduce I fell asleep in her arms.

I really need to work on that.

She murmurs in her sleep and shifts, and I can't bring myself to move and possibly wake her. I can work out without moving it's still nighttime. Starlight pours from the window, turning the room to silver. I can see the waning moon from where I lay and my hope is instantaneously shattered.

"No… she's not— not a monster… she's not like you…"

My eyes snap back to Laura as I see her face twitching fearfully in sleep, quick, murmured words falling from parted lips.

As I watch, she shoots up with a desperate scream of "No!", her eyes shooting open, breath coming fast and labored.

I'm pulling her closely, whispering. "Hey hey hey, what's wrong? These dreams should be going away."

Her eyes are wide, dilated in the dim light and I think of how queer it is that I'm so closely attuned to how she feels now— the alarm and fear pulsing from her is getting into my bloodstream, quickening my heart.

"They aren't the dreams," she rasps. "They're…" She hesitates, as if reluctant to speak. "Nightmares. I find myself in this dark tower. It's surrounded by a dark lake. A cat comes into the room and it turns into your— the Dean."

My heart tightens, sudden fear stopping it. "What does she say?" My voice grows louder, skewing toward the higher octaves of the spectrum. Laura winces away before shaking her head.

"Nothing," she mumbles, clearly lying.

"I need to know," I urge her, insistent. She looks hesitant, and I push one hand to rest on the nape of her neck— a gesture that calms her down. She relaxes at my touch and her eyes shadow over, reaching back into memories.

"Go on," I prompt..

"Shesaysyoucan'tloveme," she mumbles quietly.

"We all know supernatural beings are superior to your inferior intellect, but you must know even I couldn't understand that string of words. Say it again— slower."

"She says that," Laura pauses, hands fiddling in her lap, eyes darting away as heat flushes her face. She bites her lip and god_damn _that's sexy, I think, even though I know this really isn't the time. "She says you… you can't love me. That you're one of them." Her voice grows quiet, embarrassment ringing through her tone as she scoots away. "A vampire."

Shock electrifies my veins. Laura— love me— why couldn't she…?

I swallow, trying to keep myself composed before her words really sink in— all of them— and anger scorches my veins, thrilling through them like liquid fire. "That— that _witch," _I spit, centuries worth of resentment bubbling up. "She killed Elle and she says _I'm _incapable of loving?" My fangs snap out in my rage and my teeth grind together.

"I don't believe her," Laura says softly.

"What?" I pause my furious pacing to glower at her and she blushes before murmuring, "I don't think you're… unable to love. Everyone has a heart, no matter how buried it is."

I falter and something inside me screams to _listen. _

Then I've crossed the room and I don't know where in this whole mess, where in these weeks her lines first tangled with mine, where mine begin and hers end— only that I want her, need her— as I muster all the strength of my conviction as my lips crash against hers, desperate and full of fire. She kisses back with just as much passion, my hands rooting in her hair and pulling her closer as her fingers press into the sharp bones of my hips, the fear and tension and uncertainty of all the last days exploding between us.

And I want so badly to protect her this time, to not mess up where I did with Elle.

So I kiss her harder, hold her closer, deepen it, and maybe in the lingering contact I can feel the first words of something I swore never to say again—

_I love you._

X-X-X

_Laura's P.O.V_

_x-x-x_

The musty smell of books wreathes the air and I yawn, shivering as the empty, cold air runs through me.

We're in the library— a wide, cavernous room, filled with light that pours in a warm golden color to mahogany floors. High arching windows throw down barred shadows to mar the light and Carmilla's frustrated growl echoes off the rickety bookshelves, followed by a loud slam.

"Nothing within the confines of this folly of a book…" She emerges from between the shelves, rumpling her hair and grumbling under her breath.

"You're the one who offered to help with my Lit paper," I comment, shuffling through a sheaf of papers, a small laugh escaping as she gives me a dark look.

"I did not _offer. _You pleaded and begged and eventually I succumbed to your whining." She disappears back into the shelves and I smile after her, suddenly jerking myself from my thoughts when she pokes her head back out and gives me a coy smirk.

"You know, you really aren't doing anything about your unrequited love by staring after me and smiling like a fool."

"You're the one who— who kissed me first!" I sputter back, cheeks burning in embarrassment.

"Hm," she says thoughtfully, "true." With a small, dark chuckle, she withdraws and I swallow abashedly before focusing on the Jane Austen papers in my hands.

"Ahem— oh. Laura."

I look up in surprise to see Danny hovering in the doorway, her eyes sharp and thunderous as she gives a small, jerky nod in my direction. I lay down the papers and give a faltering smile, feeling almost— guilty, for some reason.

"Hi, Danny."

"I see you're working on your paper," she says stiffly.

"Oh— um, yeah. I am." With a laugh that feels and sounds very forced, I throw out an arm to indicate the messy stacks of books and pens. "I'm not getting far, I'm afraid."

"Well, would you look at that, it's the Summer psycho come to check up on you."

Without even having to turn around, I can almost _feel _the snarky tone coming from Carmilla, her hands resting on my shoulders as she emerges from the shelves. Possessiveness just _radiates _off of her, and I can see Danny's face grow thunderous, her shoulders straightening and expression taut.

"You're here."

"Is that a problem?" Her voice grows soft and deadly.

"No," Danny growls through gritted teeth. "I just didn't expect to see you here."

I shake my head, leaning forward. "Danny, it's not—"

"I'll see you around, Laura," she snaps, whirling and swiftly leaving, her stomps echoing back from the hall.

"One might think she would be a little less obvious in her jealously," Carmilla mutters, sliding into the seat next to me. I shiver at the loss of her hands on my shoulders. No matter how dismayed I am at the possible loss of Danny, I can't deny Carmilla's possessiveness feels amazing.

Later on, I'm sitting on my bed, blinking in exhaustion. My stomach is growling, empty, and a headache pulses behind my temple as I groan and flop back, shooting back up when I realize the pillow isn't there. Snapping my gaze to the opposite of the room, I see Carmilla asleep, the yellow pillow rumpled under her head.

A loud _knock _before the creak of a door jerks my gaze from my slumbering roommate and to where the silhouette of someone is blocking the lamplight. I blink unsteadily before saying, "Kirsch?" in disbelief.

"Hi," he says, before leaning into the dorm. "I just came to say that the Zetas are holding a party this Friday if you wanted to come, and bring a hottie or two." He winks and I roll my eyes.

"Yeah… yeah, sure. Now would you please leave? I'm trying to work on my homework here."

He agrees and shuts the door softly, leaving me pondering. It would be good to unwind from the stresses of the past week. And I haven't been to any parties at all in my time at Silas.

And now, I think with a groan, it's time to finish this _damn_ literature paper.


	10. Chapter X

**CHAPTER TEN  
><strong>

_This will definitely sustain you until tomorrow, cha? _

I pull on a pair of leather pants before casting a dark look at Laura. "Remind me again why we're going to party held by the frat boys, cupcake?"

"Because Kirsch asked and we kind of owe him, plus, I want to do something that doesn't involve stressing over supernatural stuff for one night." She looks over from where she's brushing her hair, the sunshine strands rippling down over her back, gleaming in the manufactured, dusty light from the bathroom. "And since I don't want to be _pod peopled _I'm bringing you."

"That, and I have to make sure you don't get ridiculously drunk and try to hit on anyone." I growl.

She turns with a small grin on her face. "Someone's getting possessive."

I roll my eyes and exit the bathroom, not before saying lowly, "We already established you're _mine."_

I smile as I hear her stammer out a response, the door blocking the words from being clear.

Later on, as soon as we arrive at the place, I can tell that things are going to be damn well hard to keep an eye on. Whirling lights play out in the kitchen, filled with disgustingly drunken college kids and party-goers, flirty, scantily clad girls who resemble toothpicks. The scent of smoke and burning marshmallows wrinkles my nose in disgust. However, there isn't any drugs or smokers— that I can tell from senses acquired over the years— so I reluctantly follow Laura and LaFountaine into the dimly lit kitchen.

A few hours later finds me angrily slamming my palms onto the kitchen counter. The party has cleared up some, and Laura sits— alone, without that damn ginger, I don't know where the hell they are.

One look can tell me that Laura must have gotten drunk. She must have accidentally gotten a spiked drink and drunken it.

"Hey," she says, and her voice has that slurred edge and her eyes are unfocused. She's sitting on the edge of the counter, legs dangling off. I swear under my breath before drawing closer— she's too enticing and I swore long ago never to let myself fall in love with a human again, not after Elle—

But Laura is light and even I am drawn to it uncontrollably.

"Where's LaF?" I ask slowly.

"Perry came and got them," she murmurs, reeling, pulling me closer. We both sway together as if caught by a interim breeze, all the while, she's pulling me closer. "I wanna go home now."

"Yes, I'll get you back home," I say, but it's a distracted string of words as she tugs at me, hands searing and swimming up my sides.

Her eyes lock onto mine, deep and flickering, her legs shifting, and I'm oh so aware of how little distance there is between us. Her hips press to my stomach, arms on my shoulder— and I know she isn't herself, she's not really here, but the closeness of her stirs sparks in my bloodstream, smoldering coals in my veins. My breathing is shallow and quick as her legs tighten around my torso.

"I liked that time we waltzed." Her voice is hazy and distant. "We should waltz again."

"We can, good Lord, but let's get you back to the dorm and to sleep first— you're drunk as hell, I should _never _have let you come to this party—ah—" A sharp breath rips through me as she slides forward, legs locking around my waist, arms around my shoulders, face inches away from mine.

I'm certain we both move forward at once, her hands hot, burning on my neck as she jerks me toward her, slipping halfway off the counter, her legs pressing heatedly into my hips. I slip backward, overwhelmed with _her. _

Her lips collide with mine, hot and feverish and heavy and so— fervid— I can't keep my thoughts straight, just her and her and—

She makes a low keening sound that drives something within me, making heat pool in my stomach. She utters a low gasp in the back of her throat and my hands tighten around her waist, my stomach clenching as her hands tangle deeper into my hair, shockwaves running through my veins. I wrench her towards me, and her feet hit the floor as she backs me against the cold steel of the refrigerator— I'm losing control, spiraling out of reason, but at the moment nothing could feel better than this— her lips crashed against mine, the closeness of the her, her hands disappearing up the cloth of my shirt, cold on my stomach—

"Wait." I'm the one pulling away then, reason suddenly kicking in with a vengeance. "No, Laura. Not here. Not now. Not like this."

"Why?" Her voice is the petulant whine of a child, breath inebriated.

"Because we're in a kitchen full of disgusting frat boys and I don't know about you," I smirk, "but I definitely do not want that to be a lasting memory in my head."

Then she's all but dragging me toward the door and we disappear into the night.

**Laura's POV**

I think the alcohol finally wears off when we reach our dorm, but still I don't stop her.

She throws open the door, one arm around my waist as she jerks me into the room. There's a steady pulsing inside of me, warming my veins swiftly like fire.

She all but throws me onto the bed, all gentleness gone to be replaced by a predatory, dark look in her eyes— hungry, I think. Her lips crash against mine with a desperate need that roars through me. My eyes immediately close as I feel her hands snake around my waist, trailing sparks in their wake.

The sheets tangle around my left foot as I let out a broken whimper, back pressed to the wall. She's holding me close, on top of me, wanting, needing, her chest heaving against my own. Stars sprinkle the backs of my eyelids as they flutter shut— I arch upward with breath coming in heavy, faltering pants, my fingers finding their way to her slender built shoulders. Her hands slowly drag down my ribs, raining sensations down hot skin. A sound halfway between a growl and purr emits from her as she draws back up to meet my lips with her own, passion blazing through as she rips away and attaches her mouth to my neck. She peppers soft kisses all down my jawline, leaving me breathless and moaning.

It's almost embarrassing, really, how utterly senseless I get around her.

"Oh _God_," I whisper as she leaves a fiery trail of open mouthed. soft, barely-there kisses up my torso, making me shiver erratically and fist my hands in the rumpled sheets.

Like now. I'm just barely holding onto reality, as her lips whisper over hotly, lightly nipping my pulse point (_and God, I'd be so afraid of her biting me if I didn't trust her with all I have_) and they land just above my sternum. One hand is around me, pulling roughly, possessively, toward her, and the other is drawing circles on my stomach; making a ball of heat explode in my torso.

There's just _hands hands hands _and _lips lips lips_ and, my goodness, she's just so _good_—

_Bam! _

I jerk up as a loud knock echoes through the dorm. Carmilla draws back, eyes narrowed. "So this age finally learns to knock, but when we're occupied? What the frilly _hell_—"

"They only knocked," I say, catching my breath, as pants interrupt my words, "because we locked the door."

"Numbskulls," she mutters, but not before adjusting her shirt and hair and throwing me my (discarded) shirt which had been lying on the floor. "Quick. Put it on. "

I pull it on and run a hand to tame my wild hair, trying to slow my rapid-fire heartbeat and the heat pulsing through every area of my body. Not that I'm mad that anyone's here, but at the moment, I'd rather they hadn't come.

Perry bursts into the room quite literally milliseconds after my shirt is smoothed, an expression of unfathomable rage clear on her normally genteel features.

"Which one of you let her go?" she snaps, her ginger hair flyaway about her face, an unfocused looking LaFountaine dragging their feet behind her.

"It was her," Carmilla says immediately, smirking, looking unruffled as ever. I shoot her a glare and she raises an eyebrow, eyes silently challenging.

"She's drunk!" Perry yells. "Drunk as a— a hooligan, I tell you! As the official floor don, this type of partying behavior is unacceptable!"

She whirls out, slamming the door behind her, muttering angry curses as it slams. Her footsteps echo down the hall and then disappear.

Carmilla raises an eyebrow at me and I push her arm, trying and failing to be angry at her. She lays back on the pillow, arms stretched out under her head, and I lay with her. She doesn't protest when I lean my head against her side, snuggling up to her, even though I know she hates that word. So I don't say it out loud.

My hand dips on her ribs, drawing little circles, little words like love notes over her ribs, collarbone— gentle touches. _I'm here, and I accept you. _Her eyes are hooded but not angry or sharp, just filled with curiosity as she gazes upon me, like it's the first time she's seen me.

"Why do you love me?"

My elbow creaks as it digs into the bed and I look at her— really look at her— with the candlelight glowing on her face, eyes full of grief, contrasted by suppressed hope, repressed desire. Shock blooms in within me. Possibly because it's the first time she's hinted at something more— something lasting— something real. I think of how I try to fight my heart every step of the way— how futile it is. I'm never going to completely deny it to myself.

"I'm a monster," she murmurs, and I shake my head.

"This is my first time falling in love," I hesitate, trying to form words right— not answering, and her eyes peek out from below ebony hair, breath ghosting across my arm as I blink at her. "I guess— I don't want it to be… not real, you know? Because you're the realest thing I've had. Or wanted this much." I lace my fingers with hers. "It confuses me, sure, but I'm not going to stop trying because of… anything, really." I give a small upward quirk of my mouth. "Plus, you know, you're not a monster. At all."

She opens her mouth. Closes it. Her eyes are considering, narrowed in thought. And then she speaks, and her words are tumbling out, tripping over her teeth in their hurry. "I want it to be real as well. And I don't want it to be…" She swallows, eyes pained before starting over. "I don't want you to leave me like she did— like they all do."

"Shh," I roll over to look into her eyes. "I'm not going to leave. I will never leave." I hold her hand close so she can feel my heartbeat, awake the echoes inside of what she once had. "I promise."


	11. Chapter XI

**CHAPTER ELEVEN **

_I'm going to be using the plot line for episode 31-32. If you have a problem with this, PM me. _

_All credit goes to U BY Kotex and Jordan Hall~ _

The rippled edges of the tome scratch under my fingers as I trace the bloodstain blotching the edge of the page, ancient runes sparking under my fingertips.

I look up to see Danny and Laura fighting furiously. The ginger's eyes flame in anger and she stands up quickly, stalking to the edge of the room.

"Did you think I invited you over here so that we could…?" Laura's voice trails off in disbelief and I force my eyes to stay on the page, no matter how much their irate bickering tempts me.

"No," Danny shouts, her voice jagged and hurt, "Not anymore I don't! I can't believe your nerve—"

"Can't believe _my _nerve?" Laura scoffs back. "I'm not the one being unfair and vindictive!"

Danny's voice is furious, her eyebrows clefting over her nose— her gaze practically shooting fire. "Well, you're not the one who got thrown over for Elvira, Mistress of the Snark!"

I look up, narrowing my eyes as she cries out, throwing a hand toward me.

"Okay, that is _so _unfair—"

"No, you know what?" Danny's voice cracks and drops, disgust ringing clear in every syllable. "I'm not _having _this conversation. If you can't keep your— your _supernatural affairs _in order long enough to keep up with your homework, that's your business." She angrily stalks toward the door.

"Come back never," I snark, flipping a page in the book as I shoot a nasty glare at the door.

"This place was cleaner when you were tied up!" she snaps, hand lingering on the door as she hovers at the threshold. She turns to Laura, saying a firm but hurt tone, "don't call me again," before the door slams behind her.

Laura's voice is shell shocked and frail. "Oh my God, she hates me."

I keep my eyes on the book.

"Danny hates me and I'm gonna fail my lit course. Please tell me you're having better luck with the mystical weapons situation."

"Er—" I bite my lip and shrug a little, looking up. "Not so much. Um, Ascalon, an enchanted spear that kills dragons, but only if you're a Christian saint— the scepter of… Kirkion… will heal them…. the holy hand grenade of Antioch, would be perfect for an influx of monstrous rabbits…"

"Wait— what about this one?"

I look up to see words springing across the screen, the little icon with J.P buzzing in the corner.

"The Blade of Hastur, forged from the burnt bones of Starspawn and meant to shatter all that oppose it. Yeah, that'd be—" She halts, eyes narrowing as more words click across the screen. "No."

"Why no?" I feign interest, shutting the Sumerian tome and laying it on my lap, eyes slitting at the screen.

"Well, it's sealed into the face of an underwater cavern, like a thousand feet below sea level. Nobody could survive that… which is probably the point. We just need something a little less epic quest and little more borrowed from the Museum of Warfare and Atrocities. Maybe a nice bazooka…"

The words blurt out without any consent from my brain. "I could get it."

She looks over, eyes widening in surprise. "What?"

I try to play it off, shrugging slightly. "The sword. I could get it." As she still gives me a confused look, I raise an eyebrow. "Pressure depth and nitrogen narcosis aren't really issues for a vampire."

"Really?" The look of surprise that blooms in her eyes makes me all the more determined. "B-but you'd be risking your life, and if your mother found out, she'd—"

"Yeah, well," I murmur, struggling to keep my voice composed, "My mother fed the only person I cared about to a monster and maybe I don't feel like letting that hap-pen… again…" My voice hitches and my eyes flicker upward.

"I mean, I know that you're not just doing it for me, but seriously—"

And still, the kid is oblivious. Even after I've done it all, danced with her, spoken with her, _kissed_ her, practically admitted that I'm hopelessly, irrevocably in love with her—

My stomach clenches painfully.

"Don't be an idiot." I all but fling the tome off my lap, hesitating before I stand and approach her, biting my lower lip and trying— trying, oh so hard, not say those three words— they've been a lie every other time, a false phrase used for ulterior motives.

But what else could this fire thrilling through my veins be, but love?

"Of course I'm doing it for you," I murmur, locking my eyes with her. A blush overtakes her face and when my eyes flicker downward, the fire is instantly replaced by icy panic that chills through me and stops my heart.

The necklace.

"Where did you get that?" My alarm is thick in my voice and her brow furrows in confusion.

"I found it here. I thought you left it— "

"Get it off!" I shout, in my haste, grabbing it. Something akin to a bolt of lightning blazes through my hand and I jerk away with a small yelp of pain, cradling my hand to my chest. Her eyes fly open and she jerks a single time before convulsing and falling forward.

"Laura?" I gasp before reaching forward as she yelps and her eyes shut, head hitting the edge of the desk with a small thud. "H-h-h-hey, no no no— Laura!"

Suddenly, she rises, head lolling to the side. I step back, fear coursing through me.

She cracks her neck ominously before turning to face me, and in her icy expression and blank eyes I can see someone— the only person I've ever feared, a slow grin spreading across her face— this is not Laura.

This is the only person I have ever been afraid of. My tormentor, my maker, my only.

"Mother," I breathe.

"Hello, sweetheart." It's Laura's voice, but there's a sinister edge that hadn't been there before, haughty and suave. "I thought it was time we had a little… talk."

"What do you want, Mother?" My voice is raw with pain, hatred singing my features.

"You didn't come when I called." She speaks in Laura's voice, a higher edge frosting her words. "I can't imagine little William was at _all _unclear. He doesn't quite have the brains for… delicacy." She gently steps across the room, eyes shining with a diabolical light.

"So if you were going to kill me, why not just come yourself?" My voice is hollow and I hear the clacking of J.P.'s words.

_Don't give her any ideas! _

"_Kill _you?" Her voice is scornful. "What, after the lengths I've gone to protect you from your foolishness? …" She turns, eyes gleaming with a frightening glee. "It's time we talked, without any of your… friends listening in. Speaking of which…"

_Oh no, she means me… _

She reaches for the hard drive.

_I'll be good! Please, Ms. Dean, I'll be— _

With a quiet click and whir, the hard drive pops out and J.P's icon shrinks and vanishes. With a contemptuous, cruel snarl at me, she turns it and crushes it in her fist, the powdered remains of what once was a soul crumbling to the floor with the echo of an agonized scream.

"Now that was satisfying." Her voice is dripping with malevolence. "That little son of a glitch has been a loose end since he disappeared into that rabbithole we call a library back in 1874."

"You didn't have to do that." My voice is tight, tense like an arrow ready to release, anger coiling like a snake within me.

"Yes I did," she retorts silkily. "Threats to the sacrifice cannot be tolerated." She gives a simpering look, tilting her head. "One day you'll understand."

Those words break something within, memories storming my head as anger and hurt and raw raw pain drowns me. "Do you think I'll _ever _understand?" I demand, voice shaking, hands trembling. "Why you fed the only girl I've ever loved to an— an abomination?"

She shakes her head, eyes cold. "I think you're a practical girl and you'll see that everything I do, I do for the best."

I look away.

"That silly little creature couldn't have loved you," she goes on, voice growing in volume, conviction, angry. "The second she knew what you were, she spilled all your secrets like an idiot schoolchild. She was a cockroach, a wretched, crawling thing… like this one." She looks down at Laura's body in contempt and I shake my head, eyes closing in pain.

_Laura is _not _part of your little game, Mother. _

"And you, my glittering girl… are a diamond!" Her voice is gleeful and I feel her hand brush my face. I recoil, shaking— it's the first time Laura has ever initiated touching me.

But it's not her. It's a monster.

"Stone cannot love flesh." Her voice is the ice of ages.

"See, all I'm hearing are your excuses for why you let a supernatural suckfest turn you into— its kitchen staff." I hitch, eyes still shut so I don't have to see, feel, hear her.

This hurts worse.

"And you think you'll be the one to change all that?" Her voice holds contempt. "You'll claw the blade of Hastur from its underwater grave and strike out the light where we worship?" She dips her finger in the glass of blood and raises her stained finger to her lips, licking it off before turning back. "It was a good plan, but you won't try it. It's a blade meant to consume anyone who wields it— why do you think the cult of Hastur buried the wretched thing?"

I tremble.

"Oh, darling. There's no way for you to fight, and nothing to fight with." She slouches on the bed and looks up with hooded eyes. "That's just the way of the world, and we must learn to bear it as best we can."

"So if it's all doomed, why even come to tell me?" I say hoarsely.

"Because I would hate for you to become the threat to the sacrifice," she snaps. "Instead… I came to offer you a deal." Her voice grows crafty, eyes clever and cunning. "If you can keep your little…" She gazes down at her— no, _Laura's— _body, "pet… here, from making more trouble, I'll let you keep her."

"How could I ever trust what you say?"

"Why don't I start us off with a gesture of _good _faith?" A smirk that looks oh so wrong on Laura's face crawls evilly onto her lips. "William, why don't you bring in your little _friend?_"

_All reviews appreciated very much :)_


	12. Chapter XII

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

The night whirls over my head, a stone weighing my chest. Leaves, frosted with snow, spiral down and the deep ebony of the sky glitters mockingly as I dawdle up the snowy sidewalk. I can't see a way out of this anymore.

Hopelessness tastes sour in on my tongue as I dash a hand to brush away the tears threatening at my eyes.

I touch a quavering hand to my cheek, pain throbbing through my chest as my fingertips gently graze over the skin where her lips touched my cheek. And Good Lord, I know a kiss— a chaste, innocent, even, peck on the cheek like that shouldn't be turmoiling me this much— especially when I've kissed her before. But it was the meaning behind it that is making my heart feel like stone.

_Stone cannot love flesh. _

She was so hopeful— so faithful— so trusting.

My cheek burns.

When I make my way back to the dorm, eyes heavy with exhaustion, I'm stopped by a yelp and a flash of red. Perry is blocking me in front of the door way, rage on her features, a wooden stake clutched in her fist.

"Not one more step, bloodsucker," she snarls.

Confusion and anger and disbelief stir in my chest and I snap my gaze toward Laura, my hand outstretched. "What is this?" I demand angrily.

Laura gives me a dark look before her hand slams on the computer, playing a video.

"_So, should we take the prom king here and leave you and the little moppet alone?" _

She fast forwards, movements tight, angry, her face stony.

"…_Deal." _

"_Excellent."_

She finally looks toward me and I stagger back, heart shattering at the hurt and betrayal flickering in her gaze. "Were you even going to tell me? About the fact she possessed me, about J.P, about Kirsch? That she used me to hurt my friends?" Her eyes lock onto mine, jaw clenching. "Or was it going to be, _sorry babe, no sword, no rescue. That's just the way the world is?"_

"Laura—" I blurt, panic running through me. Perry moves suddenly, stake jabbing out.

"I won't let you take her!"

"Laura, she promised to leave us alone!" I say roughly, urgently, willing her to understand. Begging. I can feel something crumbling inside.

I wonder how much more Mother can take from me.

Nothing could hurt worse than the pain in her eyes.

"Yeah!" Laura snaps. Her voice breaks on the last word, hurt shining through. "Just so long as you let her kill my friends!" Her voice lowers, lamplight shadowing her expression. I shake my head, disbelief winging through me, my hands useless at my sides. "You know, it's not the sword; the sword would kill you— I get that."

_But I would die for you in a heartbeat. _

"It's the fact that you just gave up. After everything—" Her voice cracks, and I know she's remembering. Dancing. Talking. Promises. "You didn't even try."

"Laura, that's _not—" _

"Go away, Carmilla!" Her voice is angry. I see the echo of a memory, a blond haired girl with hazel eyes where she stands.

_You're a monster! I hate you!_

"Go run and hide. We're _done." _She spits out the last line in disgust, her deep brown eyes cold, and I stagger back, mouth falling open, eyes pooling with tears.

She doesn't look at me.

I get out as fast as I can, leaving my heart behind.

X-X-X

I can feel Perry's eyes on me, but I don't turn around. I don't move. I don't breathe. I just try— and fail— to stifle the tears inevitably building behind my eyes, burning as I sniffle. It feels like a knife has been stabbed repeatedly into my chest, painful blows to my heart.

_We're done._

I could call her back. Say it was a joke. Say I didn't understand.

But I saw the heartbreak in her slumped shoulders, lost eyes, confused face, when those words fell from my trembling lips.

_Run and hide. _

And honestly, I don't think I could have screwed up worse than this.

_You didn't even let her explain. _

A small hitch in my throat and then a fierce stinging in my eyes announces the arrival of the tears I've been striving to hold back, and then I'm hunched over, sobbing into my arm. I can hear Perry make a small distressed noise and she's patting my back, but it does nothing to reduce the absolute heartbreak wracking my chest— crushing, unmerciful, battering at my insides until I'm struggling to see.

A thought occurs to me. What if she was trying to protect me?

Tears clog my nose and I choke before sitting up, room blurred by the tears hazing my sight.

"I didn't even give her a chance to explain," I choke.

"Party…" LaFountaine murmurs.

"She let Kirsch die! And J.P! And she didn't even try to stop her Mother— she gave up." Perry's words are firm but still, the image of her recoiling from my— no, her _Mother's— _touch is engrained in my head.

She couldn't even look at me.

"But…" I choke on a sob.

"You did the right thing." Perry's voice is soft.

"Did I, though?" I look up and stare fiercely at her, shivers running through me.

Her heartbroken face swims behind my eyes.

Perry looks away, her thumb gently swiping over the white ash of the stake, silent.

I stand.

"Where are you going?" Perry's voice is quiet.

"To go find her." I pause and pull on an overcoat, hesitating, swallowing back my tears. "And to let her explain."

**X-X-X**

Cold rain is lashing the campus in thick sheets. Silver blinds me, drenching, the sky flickering with lightning as the wind screams across the flat grass, flattening like rippling waves in the storm.

I can see a dark figure hurrying away into the night and I run after her, the wind making me stagger as cold instantly penetrates my bones and wet rain buckets down, sticking to my skin.

"Carmilla!" I shout, my words flung away by the howling wind. A crack of thunder covers my words and I force my way forward, rain sloshing around my feet. "_Carmilla!" _

I see the figure halt suddenly. A break in the whirling wind and screaming storm allows me to catch up and I place a tentative hand on her bare shoulder, the shirt that clings to her damp skin dotted with crystalline drops of rain. She turns, mascara streaking down her cheeks, making it seem like black tears.

"What, Laura?" Her voice is jagged and bitter. "I thought we were _done." _She spits out the last word.

Any explanation I have dies on my lips as she gives me a look so full of grief, hopelessness— a look like a cornered animal.

And there's a deep fire in her gaze as well, one I recognize but don't— can't— put a name to.

"It should have been me!" I burst out, fists balling up, something clenching within my chest as uncontrollable shivers wrack my body. Tears mingle with the rain pouring down my face. Rain howls around us, the storm wrapping the sky is dark colors, wet drops lashing the ground and drenching me. Her face is contorted in hurt and pain, hopelessness washing over her features— more emotion than I've ever seen darkening her eyes. "Why did you give up? Why would let her get Kirsch, J.P? Why didn't you let her take me instead?" My voice breaks, my breath failing me.

Thunder cracks the sky and lightning forks the air.

"Because that wasn't a _choice, _Laura!" Her eyes hold mine, voice shaking and broken. A snarl of thunder overtakes her words as her voice cracks and I see her face twitch in pure misery and hopeless grief— picturing myself without her, in a world where she isn't mine— it hurts worse than any pain could, an imaginary blade that wedges itself deep inside my heart at the thought of being without her.

"You should have chosen him," I whisper brokenly, unsure if it's tears or rain running down my face. Lightning turns her stark white for a brief moment. "He was innocent!"

"I'm told you I'm no hero!" She screams, and her hands shake my shoulders, eyes burning. Rain torrents down and the wind screeches shrilly, trees groaning in the high gale as we stand in the storm. I half expect to see little shards of bursting, scattering across the grass to howl at my feet. "I would choose to save you again and again—" Her voice cracks and her next words are more pained than I would have ever thought she could be. "I will _always _choose you!"

I don't know who lurches forward first, I don't know who is crying— I know her lips are on mine and I'm crying tears that she kisses away as soon as they well up, her body trembling like a leaf torn in the wind. Her wet hands press to my burning skin and something inside of me shatters.

My heart.

She tastes of tears and sorrow and heartbreak but I don't give a damn, kissing back as hard as I can, as her hands snake into my hair and grasp me tightly. She's shaking hard and I don't know where she ends and I begin anymore— tears trail down my face to streak down my jaw and she wipes them away with a quaking hand, rain replacing them as soon as she lifts it away.

This was never my intention to fall in love— to plummet like this— to lose everything, and a sob rips from my throat as I tear away, still holding her.

"I didn't intend for this to happen," she whispers.

I blink at her— the crystal drops clinging to smoky eyelashes, rain streaking down her pale cheeks and making it look like she's crying even though she hasn't cried since 1680.

I'm sure she would, if she could.

"I never was supposed to fall in love with you," I say hoarsely, body shaking, voice broken. Lightning flickers across the sky and pure grief swims in her eyes.

Her forehead rests against mine, a small shelter from the rain, and I close my eyes as she holds me close, still shaking.

"I don't want to screw up again." Her voice is small, human, and she pauses, pulling away, a small sob in her words. "Everything I cherish comes to pass as worthless. She— she kills them. You…" She fades, eyes shutting, lines carving around her eyes— the words of centuries of hardships. "I need you."

"I need you, too."

And I wonder when that 'I need you' first started to sound like 'I love you'.

When— along this path of mistrust and struggle and misunderstandings— when that anger and fury and hate turned into love and need.

I'm not sure how long we stand under the trees in the storm, but it's long enough for her to carry me back inside, dry us both off, and fall asleep to the sound of the rain pattering against the windows outside.

After I turn off the lights, moonlight washing over the dorm, I whisper a soft apology into her ear.


	13. Chapter XIII

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

I thread my fingers through her golden locks, warm, scented of mangoes as she rests her head against the crook of my sternum. She no longer stiffens at the lack of a heartbeat in her ears. I gently disentangle my fingers, and she hums, eyes closed before looking up at me with startling intensity in her brown gaze— doe eyes, soft and warm and trusting.

A sudden chill trickles through my veins as I remember the last time I touched this hair, saw these eyes looking at me with this much lucidity. It was when she was possessed, Mother—

_Stone cannot love flesh. You are not meant to love; only to destroy. _

Fear thrills through my heart. I bite my bottom lip, hard. I don't bleed, but I know the taste of blood, and the metal is there all the same, and it feels like choking.

As if I could that easily.

Laura is not Elle, and I am not the same, and I will not let her destroy something else I love.

I remember that the days, weeks, months after the coffin— time had no meaning, all was blurred, shattered— because the blood was a baptism, and every part of me was unclean. I can remember lying in the snow, the scalding feeling good— hurting, because I deserved it. The stars sprinkled like a thousand eyes on the ground and the lights of the north were just a flicker, and I was only just broken and I was thinking and thinking and feeling and feeling, and it hurt worse than anything could because time doesn't fade some memories. Sometimes, it sharpens edges, loudens the details, clarifies all the heartbreak.

"I very much need you," I say solemnly, because, really, she should know.

And the last time I hesitated to say it, the person of feeling died.

"I know," she says roughly, and her voice wavers like she's close to tears, "I do too."

And then her lips are on mine and I think that even if I am a sinner, this must be a little shard of heaven for me.

And she tastes like every hopeful thought I've had, lingering at the tip of my tongue, just within reach.

Her kisses sink into my skin like bruises and I know I will trace them later in the night like love-notes, such beautiful pain because she is not mine to keep.

She sinks back against my chest and her hair is soft and she's so perfect, and damn, I may not be able to keep her.

But I can live in the moment.

I trace a soft finger across her shoulder, drawing it down to her collarbone, her jaw. She's so fragile, supple, innocent.

Can I help that I want to protect her?

I think, as a smile that feels more like a grimace curls my lips, that she's ripped off all my armor with a few single words, looks, touches.

I wouldn't have thought I was so easily destructed.

"Laura," I say, and my voice rasps, catching in my throat like even the words are reluctant. "I'm going to get the sword."

Her reaction is instant— she shoots up, eyes flying wide. I frown at the loss of warmth where she lay. "But— but you heard what she said," and her voice is sad. "It consumes anyone who wields it."

"Maybe not," I say grimly, "I'm going to call her bluff."

Her voice shakes and her hand folds on my arm. "Don't go," she whispers, and I lean forward in alarm as I see the beginnings of tears form in her eyes. "Please, Carm, I can't lose you—"

"You won't lose me." I press a soft kiss to her forehead and her eyes close, a small sob coming from her chest. "I promise."

It's the first promise I've made in centuries.

I'm determined not to break it.

X-X-X

Watery sunlight dapples down through the evergreen boughs, the thick, sharp scent of pine lacing the air. Little, bright red yew berries decorate the dark, glossy leaved shrubs that grow up from the half-frozen soil, a thin layer of frost covering the conifer forest. All is quiet, silent— little wisps of foggy mist shroud the air and there's a quiet sense of morning and silence. A little silver ribbon of a stream snakes by, the babbling murmur interspersed with splashes and trickling, crystal sounds as it flows past, the wet rocks rearing up from the stream bed.

Fallen leaves crunch under my feet and I step lightly over a winding oak tree root, the leaf mold peaty under my combat boots.

Despite my reassurances to myself, I can't help but feel anxiety at the impending task at hand. Retrieving the blade of Hastur will be no easy thing— especially with the fact of it being thousands of feet in cold darkness, sealed in stone.

I'm not sure at all of anything. It's like I'm stepping onto a sheen of ice, hoping it will be solid so I don't plunge to the depths below.

And already, I miss her.

Squirrels chitter insults as they scurry by and finally, I break the edge of the woods. A huge moor opens up to the sky beyond, sunrise cracking the edge of the sky in a line of gold over the rolling gray expanse, light spilling onto the golden grasses. As I gaze out, a wolf's howl echoes over the land, slowly fading out. Mountains, blanketed in gray snow, jab against a lightening sky to the north, but my eyes are set forward to the west— where I can already sense the slight tang of salt on the air, smoky and bitter.

Wordlessly, I press cold fingertips to the edge of my jawline, breathing in a deep breath of the cold air through my nose, watching it cloud out in a puff of smoke— as if I could draw out where Laura has touched me, like I could bring her here now. Wishful thinking, rueful, and it won't get me anywhere.

But she's sunk into my skin so deeply I doubt if I could ever get her out.

The trek across the moor is weary, that is certain. I force myself into bursts of speed, ground cold under my feet— dodging sleeping snakes, all the while watching with anxiety as the sun rises higher, time slowly ticking away.

A dark patch blocks the horizon ahead and as I draw closer, I can see it's a small province, stretching away in either direction— too far to go around or navigate around.

God _damn _it.

I crack my neck and stand, drawing my clothes tighter about myself before heading toward the town.


	14. Chapter XIV

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

I pace the dorm, gripping the silver flipbook phone in my hand, heart pounding.

"She just left!" I exclaim, my hands flying out. Perry looks worriedly at me, her hair haloing her face in frizzy ginger curls, gray sweatshirt limp around the edges. She stays silent, one hand softly stroking LaFontaine's hair, green eyes troubled.

"Without even telling me! What if she dies? What if—" I swallow, biting my lip so hard I can taste blood well up under split skin. "What if she doesn't come back?" I slide onto her bed, breathing in her scent, sharply aware of the tears swelling in my eyes, pooling and spilling over.

Perry's voice is calm, controlled and firm. "She is a vampire, Laura, and she cares for you. If she has any scrap of a heart, she'll be back with that wretched sword."

I look up. "But how do you _know?" _

Perry's eyes flit away, down to LaFontaine's closed eyes, their softly lined face, her eyes perturbed. "I've seen the way she looks at you. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together."

"That obvious, huh?" I force out a weak chuckle before sitting up, wiping my eyes, reaching for my phone. "I'll call her. She never picks up, but maybe…" With a hopeful heart, I dial her number and raise the ringing phone to my ear.

Almost immediately, it goes to the generic voicemail, the monotone voice. I bite my lip and leave a message.

"_Carm… it's Laura. Please, please, please… I know you're not coming back until you have the stupid sword, and I'm worried for you. I'm scared. I miss you. I miss your eyes and voice and I know you're caring underneath. Please, come back to me." _A small, indecisive breath slips from my mouth, before I add in a rush, "_I need you," _and end the call.

Perry's watching with a curious but unsurprised face, and I smile sheepishly before spinning my chair to the laptop and turning on the camera.

"Hello, gentle-viewers. I have some news to share…"

X-X-X

Cold wind slices through me, the setting sun casting bloody rays, long shadows on the ground. The first stars are dawning in a velvety blue sky. The mountains are rippling, distant darkness to my back, ablaze with autumn not yet muted as snow softly whispers to the ground; the ocean lies miles ahead, but the town is here, surrounding me, and my feet are aching for the first time in years.

And though I'll never admit, part of me is anxious.

Cobblestones shift under my feet and cars roar down the streets, little, yellow grass tufts growing up from cracks in the asphalt. Street vendors are closing up their shops and children are being brought inside, and older teenagers hide in alleys, smoke curling up from their hoods and making the air bitter.

I stick to the shadowy edges of the streets, my internal compass ticking wildly as I make my way through the bustling city. Wind tousles my hair, and, flustered, I push it back before continuing on my way.

I groan as snow starts to fall, cold and icy, sticking to the speckled gray stone. That's just what I needed, of course— another factor to make this trip more wretched than it already is.

I look down as my hip vibrates. I draw up my phone, seeing an incoming call on it, with Laura's number.

Out of habit, I click the 'end' button. Better she doesn't know where I am, anyway.

Her voice rings through moments later, tired and desperate and worried.

"_Carm… it's Laura." _

I smile sadly. _Carm_. I miss her calling me that. I just miss her, dammit— everything about her, more than I anticipated that I would.

"_Please, please, please… I know you're not coming back until you have the stupid sword, and I'm worried for you. I'm scared. I miss you. I miss your eyes and voice and I know you're caring underneath. Please, come back to me." _

I frown at the phone as her voice hesitates, and then, so rushed I almost don't catch it—

"_I… I need you."_

The phone beeps once to signal the voicemail is over. I'm seized by an urge to leave town, damn it all to hell, and go back to her. But I can't. I'm doing this _for _her.

But I still save the voicemail.

Leaves skitter around my feet in little tornadoes and I wrap my clothes tighter, the chill wind brisk, numbing my face as I duck my head and forge forward.

I have to stop when night falls— partly, because if I keep going, I'll waste precious energy, and also because traveling an uncharted moor at night is risky even for me.

I find refuge in a dark alley, eyes alert. My heart would be racing if I were human.

As soon as my feet touch the alley, footsteps sound around me and I'm trapped by three shadows that have peeled away from the walls.

A circle of three men surround. They have leering, sunken, faces, scruffy beards on their bony chins. I take a deep breath, eyes menacing.

Dammit— I should have_ known_ not to hide here.

What I can only assume as the leader jerks his chin toward me, and they all leap.

High adrenaline kicks in. I whirl, roundhousing one of the skinnier men in the chest. A choked, ghastly sound emits from him before he stumbles forward, wheezing and writhing, coughing up blood. I whirl and knock his feet out from under him, stomping on his face and feeling a grim satisfaction as he squeals in pain and reaches up to his bloody mess of features, flinching and dragging himself away. If I had to guess, I'd say I knocked two or more ribs out of emission. Two more take his place, their leering faces angry and taut.

"You're gonna regret that, dearie," one of them snarls, and a shiver runs up my spine at the eerie similarity to what Will uttered to me so many nights ago.

The broad shouldered man takes a swing, silver knife glinting in scarred, callused hand, his face shadowed by the hood. I dodge away, all the thrill of the fight running silver in my veins. Swiftly ducking around, I knock one of the men out with a single punch that cracks across his face, blood spraying out in a stream of ruby. He howls and limps into the shadow, leaving a bloody trail behind.

That leaves the leader of them.

He advances, silver knife held at the ready, face alight with an anger I've seen in few. I cock my head, standing my ground, feeling the blood of my opponents wet on my palms.

Unconsciously, my stomach growls.

I could kill this man, drain him dry, and hit the road. No one would know. No one would care. I would live guilt free.

But a small voice I can only pinpoint as Laura's says no.

So, backed against the wall, I do the only thing left to do.

I kick him in the organ males so proudly brag of, a dirty snarl leaving my lips. I'm no fair fighter. He hunches over, swearing loudly, spitting curses that would impress even the most foul-mouthed individual. I dodge past and hightail it out of there, wind whipping past. I wipe blood from my hands onto my jeans, a smug grin on my face as the land opens up again to rolling hills— leaving the small town far, far behind.


	15. Chapter XV

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

My hand walks along the edge of the desk, eyes landing on Carmilla's bed. It's rumpled and unmade, just how she left it. I consider cutting off the video I'm currently filming, because I'm not going to be able to focus, not with a certain dark haired vampire crowding all my thoughts.

The sensation of her lips on my neck suddenly shoots like fire through me and I bite my lip and desperately attempt to shove the thought from my mind, to no avail. She remains.

I shiver a little and I know that I should be a _lot _more worried about her, what with her going for the sword of Hastur— but I'm missing her in a lot of ways. Her words, her looks, her touch—

Gosh jammit!

"Sorry, gentleviewers." I give a forced, apologetic smile toward the gently blinking camera. "What you see is the result of a sleepless night plus worry over a certain vampire who ran away two nights ago to get a sword to kill the brain-devouring light." I start to warm up to the screen, remembering recent events. "I told her not to go, but… she's never really been one to listen." The smile slides from my face as worry washes through me, my fingertips lightly touching my collarbone. "And to be quite frank, I'm very concerned. And likely to butcher my Lit paper because of it."

I end the recording as a sniffle wracks my chest. I shouldn't be this worried. She's a _vampire. _A centuries old badass.

Still… She's reckless. Dangerous. And if she gets killed from her pride, her _stupid _pride...

_X-X-X_

_**Carmilla's P.O.V.**_

The cliff plummets down, jagged and harsh. Salty spray is thrown to my hair and the wind screams along the coast, gulls wheeling in the night sky, waves crashing in white crests against the rocks.

This is all the song of the sea. The whisper, the roar, the scream, the death.

I breathe in the scent of heather and ocean and air and life, and look down to the black, depthless water, cold as it lands on my skin. Maybe this is music.

Maybe it's not.

Eroded crumbles of rock clatter down the cliff face as I shift, splashing into the churning, foaming sea with barely a noise. Sea salt wreathes the air, stars glinting coldly— all is smoke under a silent sky. Rain drizzles down to mingle with the spray thrown up from the roaring, foaming waves.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself, bracing my shoulders, closing my eyes.

I think one last time of her golden hair and brown eyes, falter, and my heart clenches, but my resolve is unwavering.

I dive off the side of the cliff, air whistling by my ears on the way down.

The cold is instant and agonizing as I smack into the surface of the ocean, water spraying up as I impact. It smashes into my bones, slowing my brain and stiffening my movements as I sink down, down, down into the dark, unsure of what way is up— what way is down. But I do not resurface. I don't need to.

I start stroking my way downward, hands grazing the sharp, rocky edges of the cliff, slime and algae brushing my hands as cold wracks me torturously. All is complete and utter black, an eerie ringing pulsating in my head as I sink down into the depths of the ocean, hell.

I can feel the pressure of the water, but it doesn't affect me. My body is stronger than that, and all that happens is a slight headache throbbing behind my forehead.

A sickening green light glows far below me and I start pushing towards it, eyes straining against the blackness. I can feel an aura of mysterious, divine, nightly power radiating— only getting stronger as I near it.

It feels like all the eternities spent into the coffin slammed at me tenfold— darkness, stillness, deathless terror. I don't know if it's centuries or seconds I spend underwater, but once I stop by a golden, encrusted hilt protruding from the cliff-face, my cold hands wrap on the handle and yank without hesitation.

My feet brace against the stone and something that feels like lead slows my body, paining my form. Agony flowers in my chest and I summon the last reserves of my strength and _pull. _

The sword explodes out in a shower of darkness and rocks, the shimmering blade glimmering a breathy gold in all that dark. Every scrap of light is drawn and consumed in the metal and it seems to be dragging me down, down, down, fighting my will.

I close my mind to the demons of the sword and start to spiral upward, agony still clutching my chest.

When I break the surface of the water, fresh air wrapping me in its comforting grip, it feels like being born again.

I gasp several mouthfuls of air, heart threatening to break my ribs with the erratic slamming it is doing. I tread my way to the edge of the cliff, grip the wet sword and begin to climb. My body is starting to feel the effects— limbs prickling painfully, movements slow, body aching.

The sword itself is consuming the light still, but it is glowing with a shimmering aura that speaks of an ancient evil.

I shiver.

But not from the cold.

X-X-X

**Laura's P.O.V**

Darkness encroaches the light, little shadowy tendrils snaking along the walls. The cobblestones are charred, sooty bricks crumbling with ash, and Perry's nervousness and determination is felt even from behind me. LaFountaine ambles along, murmuring in a jaunty tone, "party, now," their footsteps quick and sure.

The Lustig building towers ahead, dark under a cloudy sky. Night is falling, throwing long shadows down, and the air swirls coldly as we enter. The door creaks, groaning as it swings forth on rusty hinges, LaF entering without hesitation— even excitement.

My heart is fluttering in my chest and I force my hands not to quake as we follow the winding stairs down. The air grows cold and musty and the smell of mildew is thick on the air, stone pressing all around, the ground peaty and wet underfoot. This place is ancient, and rightly so.

Suddenly, the stairs open up to a huge room, with domed walls and the steady _drip drip drip _of water. I realize, shocked, that it's a cave. A huge cave. Glimmering limestone walls, flecked with white like stars, damp air, rubble underfoot.

And I can see a row of vampires, backs to us, a huge chasm yawning in the floor.

A sliver of moonlight kisses the darkness and my eyes dilate in the thick, choking dark.

Perry slips a stake into my hand. The white wood feels almost glowing, warm under my fingertips and smooth, and I feel a heady rush of adrenaline, strength, and courage.

"Let's go," she growls.

With a feral cry, we rush them.

Probably not the best idea.

A vampire whirls from the trench, white fangs glittering in the darkness, eyes narrowed and glinting. With a silent communication to two of its peers, they grab us, snap the stakes neatly in two, and toss them into the chasm. I struggle, but it's futile— like struggling against iron bonds. I scream until my throat is raw but to no avail, the vampire hisses in my ear and throws me, LaF, and Perry bodily into a dank closet.

"Wait." I say as Perry shoves against the door, the old wood rattling ominously. "I still have my phone."

"How would it work down here—"

I pull it out and open it up, the soft glow of the screen rippling bluish light over my face. It illuminates Perry, contours of her face shadowy and worried, biting her lower lip anxiously, gray sweater smeared with dirt. The small scrap of light makes the dark seem even thicker in comparison, swallowing us up. Even LaF's murmured whispers of "party" and "wanna go" are weaker now, more hesitant.

_Trapped in basement of Old Chapel. Come quick. Bring stakes. _

I send it to Danny, blood metallic on my tongue from my split lip, worry gnawing my insides. "I hope she comes and that she doesn't let her anger at me cloud her judgement," I say. "If not…" My voice trails off and I press my lips together, eliciting more blood from the split skin, coppery in my mouth.

Time passes like it's not real in the closet— it could be heartbeats or centuries we're in there, but all of a sudden, a loud crack and a thin sliver of light appears, followed by another crash and then light pours onto us, door shattering into a thousand wooden shards as a foot kicks it through. Dust swirls down from the broken wood.

"Danny!" I exclaim.

She grins wolfishly, extending a hand to help me up. Struggling from the swirling dust motes and splinters of wood littering all around, I dust the dirt from my pants and frown. "Why— how…?"

"Got a little convincing from Carmilla," she explains, "and I rustled up the phalanx and the frat boys. You have excellent phone reception, by the way, Hollis; you could make a killing off that. We're here to save your ass, and everyone else's too: let's go."

"But the Society and the Zetas despise each other," I say as she pulls Perry and LaF from the rubble and grimly hands Perry another stake. "And you and I…" My voice fades, indicating the tension, since our last parting.

"I forgive you," she murmurs, "and even we can come together in times like these. Now, frosh, are you ready for battle?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." I smile— it feels more like a grimace plastered on my face— as she hands me a whittled stake, the tip razor sharp as it pricks my finger.

The cave winds along, sloping, dipping into cold and dank air. All is silent save for the panting breaths of the mass of Zetas and Sisters, and the shuffle of feet on stone, tense whispers in the air. All is dark, and the glowing puffballs provided from the Alchemy lab rats shimmer and bounce above us, blazing the cavernous passage a dim yellow color, contrasted sharply with shadow.

Finally, the tunnel yawns into the main cave. The vampires are still there, and I can see, horrified— Kirsch, Betty, Natalie, Elsie, all of them bound, glassy eyed.

With a shrieking roar, the rows of the Zeta Omega Mu and the Summer Society surge past, shouting defiance, brandishing tridents, wielding stakes. The vampires freeze in surprise before hissing and snarling and rising to meet them in battle.

Fear shoots, white hot, through my veins, igniting butterflies in my stomach. My hand slips, sweaty on the stake, and I look at Danny and Perry.

"Together," we say in unison, and charge.

_Remember to review! _


	16. Chapter XVI

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

My feet hit the floor, a leaden darkness wrapping around me. Light wavers and shoots into the sword, the golden blade swallowing all traces of radiance and pulsing with black. Screams and painful howls shriek across the cavern, and I can scent blood, lacing the air with a thick, salty, coppery tang. Vampire against college student. Brother against brother.

Light against dark, as it always is, always seems to be.

I clench my jaw and race down to the heart of the battle, where the chasm gapes and rumbles scream through the floor.

The ceiling begins to shake, a high pitched, shrill noise ringing through the air. Battle stops as everyone turns horrified gazes toward the pit, where a brilliant light is slowly blinding, rising.

It's like a white sun, pulsing with brightness and sparking. Shadows shift in the heart of it, whimpers and wails rising and falling in the air, and I move forward with the sword— and then I notice everyone pushing toward the light that devours.

My eyes immediately scan the scene and I see Laura, stumbling toward the light, bloody stake in her fist. I shove aside vampire and human alike to get to her, and my body ripples and shifts. I melt into a panther, paws hitting the floor with a soundless whisper, darkness clearing, tail lashing out behind as I thrust myself forward and seize her by the collar of her shirt.

I yank her forcefully away from the lip of the chasm and she falls to the floor, eyes terrified as she gazes up at me. I shift back, pain soaring through me, swooping in my stomach as my body shrinks and shifts. The sword springs back into my palms and all light is instantly sucked in, Laura's face dropping into shadow.

A loud shriek of fury jerks us from staring and I whirl to see a vale of shadows plunging down, bright eyed and flapping and clawing. A thick stench overtakes the air and I'm enclosed in a swirling storm of darkness, wind lashing my ears.

"Mother," I breathe, heat roaring in my ears. I raise the sword, darkness rising around me and wrapping me as wind whips in my ears and a battle cry bursts from my throat— a one that is answered, challenged, met with a scream of defiance.

Thousands of sharp claws snag at my clothes, drawing blood. I freeze before moving the sword to slice down the first row, cold anger lighting me from the inside. Black blood spatters out and for every fallen shadow, two more take its place, a cloying scent souring the air.

Blood slicks my arms and my movements are quick and chopped and instinctual. Pain stabs through me and I feint, dodge, all whirling in heat and fury and the clash of battle.

"You foolish girl," A thousand voices hiss, slithering, rasping from the swarm. "I thought I told you not to meddle!"

A heartstring snaps inside me and I feel my facade of strength shatter, sword faltering as it whizzes in the air. I shout, slashing down a screaming shadow and spinning the blade of Hastur. It's a beacon of black, buzzing and humming with a shrill noise reminiscent of evil, and the crows flinch away. "I'm tired of being your pawn, Mother! I won't let you kill someone else I love. You've kept me as your mindless soldier far too long!" Fury howls through me and I wildly stab out at the shadows.

Energy surges through me as the words finally break free from a place cold and dead, now thrumming with life, spilling life into my veins, reawakening the echoes of what I had centuries ago.

And it feels like heaven clashing with hell as all my beliefs collide and fire sparks inside and consumes me from within.

The shadows condense and form into a tall, bloody shape—

_Mother._

Her eyes are frigid and her fangs are extended, a snarl contorting her face. I flick the sword in my hands, blade toward my chest, hilt facing her as the edges of metal bleed into my hands. My arms thrust out and the hilt smashes into the contours of her face.

With a ghastly scream she staggers back and over the lip of the chasm.

I stagger to my knees, tears streaming down my face as the sheer moment of pure energy shatters and the realization of what I've done hits me.

"I didn't want it to be like _this," _I whisper as the sword grows blistering against my hands, screams echoing all around. "Never like this."

Steeling myself, I stagger to my feet and turn to see Laura, eyes white in the shadows. Her face is dusty, streaked with blood and tears, and her hands shake as she gazes at me.

"Carmilla," she whispers, "Look."

I freeze before turning to see the light blazing up behind me.

It's bright as the sun, pure light, unadulterated as it pours down and blinds me. I squint and see faint shadows stirring in the heart of it, and I make out a face bright as a star, two hazel eyes glimmering in an unsullied face. Her hand extends, like she's reaching for _me— _

"You know," I say to Laura, and there's this awful choked sobbing noise in the back of my throat, and I can see her eyes widen as she realizes I— disaffected, coldhearted, centuries old Carmilla Karnstein— am _crying, _genuinely weeping_. _"I'm really starting to hate this heroic vampire crap."

Then I turn.

And leap.

The ground spirals away and musty air whistles in my ears as the sword plunges forward and buries itself in the heart of the light. The ghosts within howl a last lament, and the hazel eyes flicker before disappearing, and the sword scalds against my hands like a fallen star.

The chasm catches the edge of my hands, and I cling on, Laura's face glowing above me in the shadows. Pain burns through my muscles and I gasp a breath filled with soot and ash, coating my throat.

The light sputters and quakes and ghastly bawling sounds emanate from the heart of it, and it shatters into a thousand shards that are sucked into the sword. I try to free my hands but the hilt stays fastened to my skin, hot, searing, _scalding— _

As I fall, one hand flies out and grips the edge of the cliff, and my muscles tremble in agony as I cling on. Laura crouches, dumbfounded, above me, frozen, the sword searing my other hand. Light slants across her face, and she's never looked more like an angel than she does now, with the darkness's holy wings rising behind her.

"You can survive it," I say in barely a whisper, the darkness tempting my feet, tugging me, telling me to _let go fall fall fall die die die_. "And that is all I want. You do not need me. You can find your own place, with your strength alone. . . Laura… be brave… fight for me. Live through this."

And I let my fingers unclasp from the edge.

The chasm opens below me, light raining around like fallen angels, and I fall, burning, into darkness, her last scream of loss following me into oblivion.

x-x-x

_Reviews, for this chapter, would be lovely if they had more than just 'keep going' or 'awesome writing'._

_Thank you, love you guys. _


	17. Chapter XVII

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

_Ba-dum._

_flashes of light— _

_Ba-dum._

_heartbeats like drums— _

_Ba-dum._

_darkness drowning out everything— _

_Ba-dum. _

My hand brushes the side of the cave wall, her scent filling my nose, choking me. The pain forces me to my knees, throttling me, jostling my heart so it falls to the floor; darkness threatens to consume me, lapping at the edges of my vision.

A slight movement catches my peripherals, and that's when I see the gold exploding like a shower of heaven in the black, the slightest gleam of boots, two black eyes gazing up, terrified— like sharp commas, pauses between decisions, pale hands outstretched like wings, pleading for help.

I am across the cavern in two strides, but it feels like a lifetime, as if some part of me knows that I will be replaying this scene in my sleep for the rest of my life, over and over again, like a dream where no matter how fast you run, the monster is always faster. The chasm spins away dizzyingly below me; sharp eyes take in everything at once, with the strident awareness of the damned – the light as it shatters into millions of shards, like a broken mirror— the darkness curling in a twisted crucifix around her neck, the terrified scream echoing up like it comes straight from hell, the inverted form of her body as it plummets into the darkness.

"_Carmilla!"_ I shriek, the sounds of battle a distant background hum. I reach for the jagged edge of the lip of the pit, cutting stone into my flesh, rubble digging into my palm. Coldness throttles me.

And a decision took place here, a choice, a promise.

In some dim faraway country, I hear the pounding of boots as Danny comes up behind me, Kirsch at her heels, one of them speaking to someone – _the light's gone, vampires still fighting, we need to get out of here right fucking now_—but I am blinded.

I stop straining my eyes against the blackness, hang my head to my chest. And hear nothing but my own guttural wounded curses, my own pounding, terrified heartbeat, and the echo of her own.

I remember kissing her miles above this very spot, the warm weight of her protecting me. I touch my chest, feeling the blood that seeps through my fingers. We once consecrated this ground, but now violence has tainted it with more violence, the one place where we could feel safe. I can hear the screams of the dead and the dying, but all of it blurs black and white into the screaming colors_._

"_No!" _

My hands scrape blood at the sharp edge of the chasm, my voice echoing as I stare down, throat raw from screaming, eyes prickling with tears. Rocks clatter down, echoing as they vanish.

"_Carmilla!" _I scream, my voice an anguished wail.

Two hands grab my shoulders and yank me away from the edge. I fight, vainly, clawing and scratching weakly before Danny spins me and hauls me up, eyes pooling with tears. Her nose is streaked with blood and her face is lined and weary.

"_No_, Laura. It's too late… she's gone."

"_No!" _I howl, struggling, tears pouring down my cheeks. "She's not! She can't be! _Carmilla!"_

"_Laura! _Laura… she's gone… she's dead, you can't save her— she went over the edge, there's no way she survived that." Danny's words are pained and she pulls me from the edge as tears choke me, and the ash is there all the same, and it feels like I'm drowning.

"But," I whisper, breath coming in ragged gasps, throat aching with a loneliness that tears my heart in two. "She—she promised… she promised she wouldn't leave…" The words are foreign on my tongue, and I want them to not be true— the darkness filling my chest, the emptiness echoing through me.

"Come on," Danny says, not veering from our goal, and my head is spinning and my mouth is parched and dry. Her voice is raw.

I stumble along behind her, face wet from tears and blood. The vampires are in a patchy circle, hands up, fangs retracted, their dark eyes full of fury and fire.

I choke as I see her face echoed in all of theirs.

"We surrender!" A jagged howl comes from the group.

The Zetas and the Society press forward. I stare numbly at them, not caring anymore if we've won or lost.

Because I have lost everything, and if this is victory, I don't want it.

The vampires turn as one and dive into the chasm, bodies disappearing and plummeting into the darkness. Everyone starts to mill about before Danny climbs to an outcropping of rock, her voice strong as it echoes in the cavern, rumbling to catch everyone's attention.

"Everyone listen up! The Lustig is a highly unstable building. We need to leave right now. I want everyone to _singularly _follow Kirsch out of here! Sisters first. Zetas follow."

Everyone slowly— painstakingly slowly— starts to shuffle behind a bloody, broken armed Kirsch. He's limping, gritting his teeth in pain, but his eyes shine with determination and a puppy-like courage. His face is ragged and worn, a look of new intellect and wariness present there that I haven't seen before.

_Looks like he'll wise up now, _I think, and that sends tears streaming down my face.

X-X-X

"Thanks, Perr."

"No problem, biofreak. We missed you."

I shift in the quilts coddled around me, feet icy cold, shivers racing up my spine as my teeth chatter. Perry's eyes are soft and grieved as she casts a glance back at me, and I keep my eyes on my scraped, chafed hands, like I can feel Carmilla's touch one more time. The lamplight is still on me and I gasp a breath that feels like choking.

"Why does it hurt so much?" I whisper.

Danny pats my shoulder one more time before slipping past Perry to the computer. The camera is on, and I know I should be grateful— for Elsie, Natalie, Betty, Kirsch, Danny, LaF, and Perry, all of them alive and well—but the absence of one is a gaping, bleeding wound in my chest.

If I close my eyes, I can still feel her.

"So Laura's kind of having a rough time right now." Danny's voice is hesitant and hushed. "Um, so…"

Perry breaks in. I know they're filming. And that the video is catching me in my miserable, grief filled little ball. But I couldn't care less.

My ears snag a word as Danny speaks.

"…and it started rumbling, and shaking, and this light—"

"Like the sun coming up underground," I deadpan, numb— and this heart, my heart, it is important, it is saying listen. "And you're transfixed by the brightness. Everyone started walking toward it, because what can you do but give yourself up to this light?" My hands shake under the covers and I bite my lip so hard it breaks, blood blossoming over my tongue. I force out a breath that feels like choking. "And that was the moment this giant cat grabs me by the scruff of my neck and drags me away from the edge, and it shrank and shifted, and… there was Carmilla." My voice grows soft and warm and that makes my heart prick with pain as they all gaze, wordlessly, at me. "With a sword. A sword like a hollow in reality, eating light."

Danny must see how close I am to crumbling, because she takes over. "And when the Dean saw Carmilla, she screamed— and came at us in this swarm of shadows— like crows, clawing and scratching. And they fought like that, until the Dean turns into a woman again, at which point Carmilla decks her in the face with the hilt of the sword and she falls into the chasm.

"But it was too late," I choke, my words snagging, tripping past my teeth. "The light was everywhere and there were these figures, reaching out for you… and I think Elle was reaching out for Carmilla, and Carmilla was—" My voice breaks and I swallow, biting my lip so hard blood bursts under my tongue. "She was crying," I whisper. "Because she hadn't seen her in so long. But then Carmilla turns to me and says, "_you know, I'm really starting to hate this heroic vampire crap,"… _And then she leapt." My heart slams, erratic, like it doesn't know how to function any more. "Drove the sword right into the heart of the light, and it shook and sputtered like it was alive… and then they all fell together into the darkness."

I close my eyes, and see her again— shadows shrouding her, hair haloing her face, sword in hand as she fell— like time stopped— into the darkness, the sword a breathy gold as it all winked out of view. I know I will see this over and over until it is burned deeply into the folds of memory, and gradually it will blur and break— did her hair cover her right or left eye, did she smile crookedly or straight, what was her laugh like?

This girl who was broken but picked up the pieces for me, who tore down walls to let me in, who loved me, who sacrificed herself so that I may live.

It truly hits me then. Hard and with all the force of a meteor. She is _gone _and she's _not coming back. _She can't come back.

She's dead.

"Stop filming," I say, my voice failing. "I— I can't do this. I can't…" I throw off the covers, my muscles aching, tears burning behind my eyes. "I—I'm sorry. I have to go."

Then I'm running out the door, but I cannot outrun the memories crashing all around me, and they're crushing my breath and I stagger outside. Night is fallen.

And then, suddenly, impossibly, it starts snowing.

Cold flakes spiral down and touch my skin, and all I can think of is another place, one that only exists in my dreams now, a place where she is real and untouchable. A place where I dared to hope I could keep her, a place I held so tightly it slipped from my hands, and is now lost forever— my throat chokes, and my chest heaves. The memories break and rush, smothering me, and I see images whirling by too fast to name—too fast to touch, to see, to feel.

And I can see her with sharp clarity, and the wind is her voice whispering in my ear, and the metal of the cold railings is her fingers on my arm, and the snowflakes are her breath ghosting across my flesh, and the howl of the sky is her voice as she plummets into darkness. It all rises up in my mind, clamoring, and something inside of me splinters as the wave of darkness threatens to close over me, constricting my throat with startling intensity.

_Laura, _the lonely wind seems to whisper. _Laura, I'm sorry. _

The stars are cold and there is one more for her and when my eyes touch the spot where we danced, I collapse.


	18. Chapter XVIII

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

**This chapter is mostly compiled of… it's strange. It's basically memories… from Carmilla's point of view… this does not mean she is alive, but rather, backstory from 1872, and maybe flashbacks as she deteriorates thousands of feet under the Lustig… **

"_Catch me if you can, Calla, you slow legged collie!" _

_Sand squishes between my toes, late sunlight bleeding out over the silver circle of the lake. A placid and smooth pond spreading to the shadowy line of the conifers, mirroring black stabbing pines in the water. A breathless laugh escapes my throat, lungs burning from running, and I smile as she spins and turns, sun frosting her hair to a bright gold. I pour on a last spurt of speed and tackle her to the lakeshore, hands hitting her ribs and she squeals and laughs, the cry of loons echoing across the wild pocket of land as it blends with a chiming, bell like sound of laughter. _

"_You're crazy, Calla," she giggles, rolling out from under me. Sand sticks to her skin and I brush it off before smirking. A stray curl of hair wisps across her face. I idly brush it back and she crooks one side of her mouth at me._

"_I'm just observant, Elle. At least I call you by your name and don't insist on calling you a ludricious portion of it. Whatever would happen if I called you mere L? I insist you call me Mircalla." _

"_Those are the same pronunciations, you fool," she laughs. "And anyways, I like Calla better; Mircalla sounds like some silly Styrian name from the 1600's."_

_I swallow, a knot forming in my throat as her eyes sparkle at me. "Yes," I say, voice catching in my throat. "Blame my mother for that." My voice is touched with bitterness and she evidently snags it, because her forehead furrows in concern. _

"_Good thing you love me, rightly so; I won't judge you based on some fickle thing like a name."_

"_I don't know," I disagree, "I've always been rather impartial to blonde haired girls." She laughs throatily before capturing me in an open mouthed kiss, the wind fluttering back to tickle my face. She's warm and I feel my worry melt away. This, here, is real— something Mother cannot take away from me, ever. _

"_Come," she says, sitting up. "It's getting late. Night draws close. Father will wonder what has become of us and he shall send out a butler if we do not make haste." _

_I stand, pulling her up. "He's pretentious, anyway." She takes my hand with a smile, finger interlacing within my own, and we run into the woods. _

_x-x-x_

"_Sister dear, you must know that this is growing to be a problem, do you not?" _

"_Shut your trap, Will; you conniving son of a—" My voice breaks, weak, and he catches it, pouncing, eyes gleaming coldly._

"_Mother has always told us not to get attached to the targets, Mircalla. Much less to fall in _love_ with them. What a folly you have entangled yourself in. This Elle girl— she's going to die like them all, you know it. And you can do nothing to stop it." His voice grows haughty and gruff, fangs glinting. "Nothing short of making like a coward and leaving. But you'd never do that because it would _betray the order _as we've been forbade from, and you— Mum's favorite and you wouldn't betray it." His voice is crafty and holds a challenge. "Would you, sister?" _

_I growl. "No." My voice sounds like a lie even to me and he laughs heartily, voice jagged and harsh. _

"_Exactly as I thought, _Calla_." He picks the one name he knows will hurt me most and uses it to his full advantage and I almost cry out in grief. "What a stupid pet name the human girl gave you. I always knew you were queer. You couldn't even have fallen for a male mortal. Then again… you're different, eh?" _

_Darkness descends, shadows cloaking Will's face and shrouding his expression so it is unreadable. I swallow, a lump in my throat, Will's words twisting bitterly in my heart. _

"_Children. Quit arguing over mundane problems and report to the counsel on your progress on the victims." _

_Will stands, flashing me a dark look. "My target has already showed weakened symptoms of the mind and strange behavior and is open to susceptibility. It should not be long before we take them for the Light, Mother." He bows respectfully, but I see a glimmer of mutiny in his eyes; surprise confusing me. What side is my brother on? _

_Whatever he is, it's not my side; that's for sure. _

"_Good, good. Mircalla Karnstein, your progress?"_

_I stand, forcing my voice not to shake. "My target… unfortunately has not shown symptoms yet, Mother." The words are sour on my tongue. "It should not be long now, however." I sit quickly, stomach churning. _

"_Excellent."_

_The rest of the counsel stands to report on their victims, but my mind is a dark whirl of thoughts. _

_The new moon is drawing nearer. And Elle is bound to fall to the light if I don't escape with her._

_I come to a decision then and there: I am going to escape, no matter what. Plan it and then flee with Elle, never return here, and taste happiness for once. _

_x-x-x_

_Strands of golden hair filter through my fingers like water, and I trace the contours of her closed eyes with a lingering fingertip._

"_You know the world doesn't accept persons like us, Mircalla." Her voice is soft but grave, and it's one of the rarer moments she calls me by my name, when she's serious. "We won't be able to be together."_

"_Not unless we escape."_

_The words fly out with consent from my mind and I shoot up, just as surprised as her. _

_She sits up, eyes widening, curious as she tilts her head. Hair falls back to drape over a narrow shoulder and sunlight dapples her face in hues of warm honey, and my hand rests on hers. "Whatever do you mean, escape…? But Father… and Mother… and the maids, and everyone… leave them? And you as well. Your mother will be coming to fetch you as soon as the carriage wreck that brought you here is fixed." _

_I close my eyes. "Wouldn't it be worth the sacrifices to be with you?" I look tenderly at her and she bites her lip. Wind swirls in from an open window, leaves skittering across the cold cobblestones. Winter is coming. _

"_I suppose, Calla… but how would we ever escape? And where?"_

"_The wide world is a large place, Elle… we could go anywhere, be anyone, do anything… It doesn't matter, so long as you are by my side." I breathe in. "I love you."_

_She smiles softly and strokes my arm as the hearth fire crackles and pops and embers smolder in a bed of ash. Firelight plays over her face, orange flickers dancing in her eyes as shadows shroud her back. "I love you as well, Calla. Let's do it. I'll come with you."_

"_You are mine, you shall be mine, you and I are one forever," I whisper softly into her ear, saying something— only ever once heard, something, a sign— a sign, a sign, that she is mine and I am hers. _

"_We shall leave tomorrow, at first light, to see what the world becomes of us and where fate shall take our feet," she says, and I smile at her, so enraptured— so captured, I don't see the dark gleam of blue eyes in the shadows and hear the rustle of a tom cat slipping out of the room and into the night. _

x-x-x 

"_Goddamn it, sister, you had to go screw everything up— and you're paying now, aren't you?" Will's eyes are angry, burning, and I strain upward, his arms flexing tautly as he pins me. _

"_Let me up, dammit— Will, I'll kill you!" _

"_Like you could. Not until Mother comes with the human girl," he hisses through gritted teeth, face shining from perspiration. "I will not betray the order, despite your follies, I will _not_ let my emotions rule me." His voice is tormented, half argumentative, like he's trying to convince himself more than me. _

"_Will," I whisper, and my voice breaks, tears spilling over. "Please." It's a small, broken plea, and I see his expression drop, eyes faltering, something akin to regret bolting across his face, before they harden again and his hands grip tighter. _

"_No. Stop babbling, Mircalla." _

_A distant scream in the night has both our heads turning. My hair sticks to the back of my neck, Will's heavy weight pinning my torso down, breath rasping in my lungs as my heart slams in my chest. A puddle of moonlight filters through the window to turn my hand to silver as the door suddenly breaks open._

_And there they are. _

"_Fool," Mother snarls as she comes into the room. Elle is crying, her hands tied around her back, Mother's hand constricting her throat. "Did you honestly think you could escape without consequences? That she loves you now?" Mother jerks Elle, her face streaked with tears, eyes white with fear. "Look at her, mortal girl. Look at _Calla _in all her heroic grace. She is a monster. She does not love you."_

_Elle looks at me. She says two simple words. Broken, accepting words. "I know."_

"_Elle?" My heart stops and my mouth falls open. "No. That's not true." My hands outstretch and I can see in her eyes that all we built has crumbled to dust. "I love you—"_

"_No you don't." Her voice is icy and dark and it stops me in my tracks. "You _lied _to me. You aren't Mircalla. You are a monster. You are not the girl I love— loved." _

"_Elle— I'm not a monster—"_

"_Really?" she screams, her eyes angry. "You lied to me! You aren't a poor lost girl in a carriage wreck! You are a conniving beast luring me into a trap— you've been doing so to how many others, how many years? I'm nothing to you, nothing! You probably seduced thousands of others, I'm just another prize to you, and you are— you're a vampire!" _

_I am struck silent. It's not as if words can fix this, anyway. Elle's eyes grow scalding hot at my silence, her mouth twisting into a thin sharp line, and I feel something within my tighten and shatter. _

_Will steps off and I scramble up, searching her eyes. There is no love there. Only hate and fear and regret. _

"_Say goodbye to your precious mortal," Mother sneers, "And say goodbye to the world. This is your last disobedience, Mircalla Karnstein." _

_And with a flash of pain and a howl, the world blazes white before all fades to darkness._

**Hey guys. Getting some more, as well as longer, reviews would really be lovely 3 I feel like this story isn't getting read, as it is… **


	19. Chapter XIX

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

**I vow only to update every four days or longer, but hell, y'all went above & beyond on reviews—honestly, those made my week so much better. Love you all.**

**IllegitimatePrincess— That's what I'm hoping, yes, and thank you!**

**AnonD— Thanks so much! The depiction is something I really worry about, as well as keeping them in character. And I am glad you enjoy the plausibility of the behind-the-scenes. :) **

**whiterose blackrose— have we met before? Your username seems oddly familiar. Anyhow, yes, I certainly would, but it depends if she is still alive! And thank you! 3 **

**Nekotite— You're right, unfortunately, this fandom isn't quite big enough for that, yet. I hope they do too, and your review was very kind! **

**punkerocker7— ;) We'll see… **

**manhattanpizza— you changed your icon, I like it! Yes, the wee ghosties lurk in the words XD But thank you, it is something I try to incorporate into the scenes! **

**Rtarara— thank you!**

**shadowhunterakira— Ah, I love your reviews, Akira! So lovely and kind. I'm pleased you like my style, of course, and connection is something I strive for, so it's good to know I am achieving that somewhat. **

**GothicPhoniex— and I look forward to posting more! **

**Guest— No, **_you're _**a beautiful reviewer! Thank you for the compliment. You are very sweet! :) **

**Tha gomes— I actually update (typically) about once every four days, just so you know. Thank you very much! And I'm not genius, just writer-y :) **

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**Wolflover2323— of course. **

**1sa— yes, I will. **

_Danny's POV_

Cold wind whips past my bare ankles and I frown as it cuts straight through the thin material of my pants, making shivers race up my legs. I raise my chin, drinking in the fresh air so it sting my nose and chafes my throat raw, tinged with icy snow. A storm will be swirling in soon, if the thick clouds smothering the horizon are anything to judge by.

"Come on, Danny!"

I blink as Jessica jogs past me, her thick brown hair rippling out behind a thin green jacket. Her green eyes sparkle and I reluctantly jog to catch up, the pair of us falling behind the rest of the Society. A pleasant burn tingles through my chest as the cold air chafes my throat, coupled with the exercise; the air is crisp and the sky cloudy as we charge across the track.

"So, how are you?"

Jessica's voice is slightly breathless and I slow my pace. She falls to match it, throwing a wayward glance at me, and I look down to the ground flying away behind me. "I'm okay," I say, inhaling sharply.

"Not still moping over that doe eyed chick you had a crush on, are you? She was only a freshman. Even if she did save Elsie…"

"No," I admit, chewing my lower lip, stumbling slightly. "She just… I just let her get to me. I'll get over it…I _have _gotten over it, mostly; we'll only ever be friends, anyway, J. I shouldn't have been so foolish as to think we were… more than that."

"You would have been more," Jessica corrects me, "But her heart belongs to another as it is. And there was nothing you, or any other, could have done about that."

"Since when did you become so wise?" I attempt to sound light, but my voice is grave and solemn.

"Since I switched into a philosophy course," she says cheerfully as we slow to a stop.

We fall into comfortable talk; but I'm still too aware of sadness hovering over me, smothering me like a dark cloud, like the rains just before a storm breaks. I have moved on, but one small part of my heart remains hopeful against what is inevitable, a small voice crying into the void. I've seen her eyes when she looks at Carmilla, and once that made me so goddamn _jealous_, but now it just leaves a slight sadness clouding me for days.

Maybe not so slight, but I've never been one to linger.

I leave the track and wander aimlessly around campus, stopping at a small coffee shop. Warm, pastry scented air wafts through the door and a small bell chimes cheerily as I enter. About a dozen kids are crammed inside the small space, most of them from Silas, laptops perched on their knees and coffees in their hands. I offer a small smile as I pass through to the front of the shop and look up at the menu.

With a moment's hesitation, I purchase a medium black coffee and a bear claw, shoving currency at the cashier before leaving for a small circle table, with two chairs. I sit in one and look out the window, where snow is starting to fall.

"Pyscho Society?"

I look up in surprise to see Kirsch lumbering into the shoppe, staring sheepishly at me, one hand twisting in the hem of his shirt, a coffee and muffin balanced in the other.

"Hey, popped collar," I say, raising an eyebrow, voice lacking the usual venom. He evidently senses it, hovering before asking,

"Can I sit?"

"If you're quite sure you won't break the chair," I retort.

He pulls out the chair, one leg catching the floor and screeching. I break off the end of the bear claw and chew it, swallowing before turning my gaze up to Kirsch's impassive face.

"What are you doing here, frat boy?"

It's typical for us to exchange worded blows, but I'm not feeling up to it today.

"I was passing S.J's memorial and the Lustig. I got sad, thinking about her, and Will…" His eyes darken and he looks at his hands. "Came here to shake it off. Coffee is good. Coffee makes it hurt a little less. We… we used to come here sometimes."

"Oh," I say meekly. "I— I'm sorry, Kirsch."

"I have to go help clean the Lustig rubble with the bros soon," he murmurs distractedly. I sip the coffee, the bitter liquid scalding the roof of my tongue.

"Do you need any help? I've got nothing better to do."

"That would be nice," he rumbles.

X-X-X

A small shard of rock pierces through my sneakers and I yelp in pain before angering and shoving rocks aside. Kirsch and Jackson, another Zeta, laugh heartily behind me— not helping at all. Of course. Typical Zeta behavior. I roll my eyes, grit my teeth, and heave another rock to the side.

The structural damage was extensive— thick slabs of limestone, granite, fallen in smaller blocks to litter a wide swath of land that plunges down. The chasm was shaken structurally and it's little more than a dip now, the bottom plate of ground overthrowing the lip so there's a small drop before it slopes into a hollow that evens out.

I freeze as my hands brush something that feels strange— smooth, worn, definitely _not_ rock.

I slowly slide my eyes down. 

A silver stud winks enticingly under my hand and four fingers curl up under mine, four pale fingers with a leather, silver studded bracelet and chipped black nail polish.

I almost scream, but I know Jackson and Kirsch are out of earshot and unable to hear. So I stand at crossroads, my heart warring with my head, my pulse pounding as I stare down at the bloody hand. Wind caresses my face, whips icily through my hair as I stare dumbfounded at the hand, slowly trickling dark blood.

I stop and my heart is torn, a small voice whispering alluringly inside of me, smooth and unfaltering. _Don't. Leave her here. Leave her to die. No one will know. No one. And Laura— _

Another voice bursts in. _Laura is broken without Carmilla. Broken. Do you really want that? Do you want her to live the rest of her life, mourning someone she never had the chance to love, to know, to touch and hold, to see her with that empty gaze, that look of eyes turned inward, of broken chances and dreams that never were? Your dad always taught you to do the right thing. Do it. _

I almost start crying at the thought of my father before I steel myself and grit my teeth.

I miss him so much.

I reach down and start tearing at the rock, anger igniting me at the thought, hands chafing and sparking with pain as I uncover the body. Rock-dust covers an otherwise unharmed face, hair disheveled, skin pale and sickly, charred from ash. I brush aside the soot dappling her face to see the faintest stirring, rise and fall of her chest.

Carmilla.

Alive.

Because no respectable vampire _would _die from a fall and nothing is too strange for this damned university.

I could leave her here, and she would die, and Laura would move on. We all would. This vampire would be a pale shadow that lingered in our minds, a ghost, a memory of sadness— a martyr we would only see in memory.

But Laura would be scarred. Carmilla would be more than a memory to her. And I know what it is to lose someone you love, and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

"This is for you, Dad," I whisper under my breath, breath catching in my throat.

I reach down and gently hook my hands, one under her shoulder blades, one under her knees, and lift, snow falling down to mingle with the tears pooling in my eyes. 

_So here we see from Danny's point of view, and if the end confused anyone… She's lost her father in her past, and it's a painful memory for her, but he was a good man who influenced her to do the right things. Almost the angel and devil situation, on either shoulder… What happened to him, and to Danny for that matter? And will Carmilla live, even? I'm not taking liberty with this one— we could have a very different ending than the finale… So what will happen to our characters? _

_This remains to be seen…_

_It would be lovely to get the reviews like last time :) :) _


	20. Chapter XX

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

_Laura's P.O.V_

She exists everywhere, really, in her absence.

I light her candles, that first Friday night after she's gone. I wonder if she's out there, in some sort of universe or constellation, if she's in some warm ethereal bed with Elle, tracing her features and kissing her with such holiness.

She deserved so much more than my accusations and weak _I need you's _and _run away and hide's. _

I touch a hand to my neck, pulse pounding slow against my fingertips, my throat closed.

Breathing hasn't gotten any easier since she…

I bite my tongue, hard, and blood immediately wells to the surface, and the taste is familiar— the inside of my mouth, the interior of my cheeks, the skin in ragged shreds that bleed all the time. I do this to stop thinking about her.

It hasn't worked since she died, and it doesn't work now.

My hand lingers on my sternum, feeling like a block of ice is cracking behind my chest and running into my veins. I lean back, chair creaking, and look over at her bed.

Instantly, I'm hit with a wave of memories and feelings so strong I double over, gasping, tears pricking at my eyes. A lump is in my throat and a heavy weight presses down my chest.

_You can survive it._

Her last words echo like a lament in my ears. You can survive my death. You can deal with the heartbreak— that's what she meant, because she _knew _she would be dying. She knew to leave me all alone.

_And that is all I want. You do not need me. You can find your own place, with your strength alone. . . Laura, light of my life… be brave. Fight. Live through this._

_But I _do _need you, _I think numbly, grasping, like my last regrets could ever bring her back to my arms. _I always needed you, Carmilla. _

"_This is what we do to those who err and break the code. Take young Mircalla's lesson and engrain it in your minds, my brothers and sisters. She is a sinner. She is not a vampire. She is as good as a soft human. Learn from her mistakes; harden your hearts."_

_The brassy sound of a gong ripples around the cavern. Stone walls loom up, shadows shrouding the entity of the cavern, torches bound to the wall. They flicker and dark eyes, hundreds of them, stare unreadably at me, judging me, a solid wall of coldness._

"_Will," I whisper. His hand freezes on where he is holding my hands, twisted painfully behind my back. _

"_No, Mircalla… hush. This is your verdict; you cannot change it… I'm sorry, sister." The last part is hushed and hesitant, like he's afraid to admit weakness, any scrap of sympathy, pity he might have for me. _

_I go silent._

_I stay silent as Mother forces me into the coffin. I stay silent as it is filled with blood. I stay silent as chains bind it. I stay silent as blood clogs my nose and blots out light… I stay silent as all my dreams are drowned and crushed. I stay silent as it is lowered into the earth and it is buried. _

_I scream as loud as I can in heartbreak and fear and anger as darkness drowns me. _

_Laura's P.O.V_

"What do you mean _Danny found her?" _

"You see… she was cleaning the Lustig… and she came back. Crying. And holding Carmilla in her arms."

"Is she alive?" I startle Perry by shouting, my voice cracked and hoarse from so many days without using it, the first, faintest shimmer of hope waking inside. "Please tell me she's alive—"

"We don't know. She's breathing, but we cannot wake her—"

"I need to see her!"

"Danny's bringing her up as quick as she can. Despite how her anatomy might seem, she's not light as a feather."

I stand, fire kindling in my chest, all my misery burnt away to a frail, quavering light— hope, fluttering, afraid to bloom into a full fire just yet, in case it is smothered. Memories start to flash before my eyes—

_Two hands slam into a wall and her mouth presses to my neck and two sharp pinpricks of pain sink into my flesh, coldness seeping into my clothes, her mouth moves against my skin as she sucks greedily at the blood, before tearing herself away with a muted gasp— _

_Dead leaves swirl in a cold wind and her hands shelter me from the storm, and music is shining and the moon turns her hair to silver and she's so _beautiful_— _

_Later now, she stares at me, "Don't be an idiot," she whispers, "of course I'm doing it for you," and her voice is soft and loving and she's standing up with her eyes locked on mine— _

_Weeks past, time winging by on silver feathers, "You know, I'm really starting to hate this heroic vampire crap," and she's crying, and wind is swirling around her and shadows block her face from view and the sword gleams before she plunges and someone is screaming and I think it's me— _

"Okay— sorry, easy-bake, she's heavier than she looks—"

Danny staggers into the room, tearing me forcefully from my torturous memories. A frail, broken body is clutched in her arms.

I recognize it, of course. How could I not? This face is engrained in the memory of my flesh, my heart, my soul— her leather scuffed, eyes closed, lashes brushing the bottom of her cheeks like angel's dark wings— like crying, little shadows marring the porcelain skin of her.

I gasp and rush forward to the bed, staring at her face, eyes flickering over her. Her chest rises and falls with slightest of shallow breaths, hair stirring as I brush it aside to look at her pale, still face.

Like death.

"She seems dead—"

A thought occurs to me in an instant— how she looked this pale, this sickly, the night before she bit me, face drawn taut and eyes hollow.

"Blood! She needs blood!"

I run to the kitchen to snatch the caved in box of soy milk, the front scrawled with a flourish— _MINE— _and run over, tilting her face up, her skin cold and dry under my fingertips. I can feel Perry's and Danny's anxious gazes on my back, but my entire world is centered around her face right now, her.

"Please don't be dead, please don't be dead," I whisper brokenly, as I tilt the blood into her parted lips. Red spills over, wetting her lips, and into her mouth and with a small gasp, a ripple of her throat, her eyes crack open and lock onto me.

She slowly sits up, hesitant, and disbelief freezes me before I plunge forward and wrap my arms around her, burying my face in her collarbone, breathing in her scent with all the pain of parting exploding into now. I can hear the creak of floorboards as Perry and Danny leave, but I'm too utterly raptured with her to care. Her heartbeat slams against my ears, pulse loud in her throat. It's loud and hollow and quick, like hummingbird's wings as she pulls me close and holds me, a small sob whimpering from my throat.

"I thought that I'd lost you," I whisper.

"God, I'm sorry— I'm so sorry." She pulls back and something about her face— so gaunt, eyes haunted, like she went through more than she's telling. I bury my face into the crook of her neck and her voice rumbles through me. "It was awful. An oblivion filled with memories that I thought I had suppressed. I'm sorry for leaving you, Laura— and I know, I know that you- you probably weren't as broken up about it and maybe I should go because I'm really just putting you in danger being here and—"

The words are rumbling in my chest now, pulsing in my throat, aching to tumble out. I can't fight it, can't deny it, can't hide it from her, from myself any longer.

"I love you," I blurt into her hair. "I love you, I love you, I _love_ _you_, Carmilla."

And my chest slackens like a huge weight has been released, unsprung, something coiled tight for so long. Her face slips, carefully composed mask cracking and her eyes glow brighter with disbelief. I feel her heartbeat falter and stop before picking up again rapidly, slamming into me, against me, and then her lips are meeting mine and and I'm shaking and trembling and holding in my sobs of relief, of happiness, of reunion.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear that," she says, her voice breaking as she trembles all around me. "How I had to hide how— I am so in love with you, God, Laura, I love you so, _so_ much—"

"More than anything," I croak, and then she's kissing me hard, and I'm kissing her back, and she's never been more human than she is right now.

I kiss her like it will bring her back to life.

**Reviews please, if you're reading this? :) Love you all~**


	21. Chapter XXI

**CHAPTER TWENTY ONE**

_Carmilla's P.O.V_

"You called, Laura?"

"Yeah." Her eyes are the lightest, most beautiful shade of brown— I could drown in them— and I curl her warm honey hair against my hand, treasuring her, the beauty that is her— the place she fills in my heart. Sometimes I shake again with he memory of terror, feeling empty, cold— but she makes that spot hum with life.

She all but squeezes my hand dry when she stutters out to her friends that I am her girlfriend. Oddly enough, I don't feel that apprehensive or pensive about it; just challenging and a bit bored— what can you do?

"Ha!" LaFontaine crows, doing a little jig in their seat, eyes sparking triumphantly. "I knew it! Crushes on vampires, no?"

Laura gives an apologetic smile. "It's a little more than that, yes. A lot more."

Perry smiles slightly, face unsurprised, her ginger hair swept back in a frizzy bun as she nods courteously at me, looking somewhat like a proud parent.

Danny is quiet, and her face holds the slightest of sadness before she looks up and nods stiffly. "I'm happy for you, Laura." Her voice is reluctant, as if the words are foreign, and I feel the briefest flicker of sympathy for her.

But it passes quickly; drowned in warmth, I have found something I swore never to look for again— never to touch, because now the chains that have bound me are shattered and I am _free. _

"Now that you've informed Team Ginger of your love life," I snark, enjoying Danny's indignant face, "Can they get the hell out? We have… better things to do."

Laura's face flushes a bright red and LaFontaine laughs heartily before taking Perry's arm to lead her out. Danny trails behind them, looking lost.

And words bubble at my lips, ones that must be said before they spill out.

"Danny," I call out softly.

She turns, surprise written in her features, and I look at my hands before saying, "I never… thanked you for saving my life."

She coughs. "It was nothing." And then, softer, "It was… the right thing to do."

Then she rushes out.

I turn to Laura and her eyes are full of warmth as she gazes at me, a small smile playing on her lips. "I'm so glad you're back," she says softly, "but I keep expecting to wake up and see you gone."

"I'm really here." I lace my fingers with hers, take a breath— and finally, finally let go of the memories of Elle, like letting trapped birds free from my caged heart. I let them go, and with them— the pain, guilt, grief.

x-x-x 

Candlelight flickers over paper, throwing rippling shadows over scrawled words. I bite my lip, pen gripped so tightly my knuckles are whitening as I stare at the letter— my only closure.

_Dearest Elle._

_I suppose I cannot call you this anymore, can I? Our last words were ones of betrayal and our time together was brief. Our love was a flicker in the great fire, and all flames must be extinguished in the end, as I know._

_Darling, I hope you were not in pain when you died. I hope you have let me go, as I have you; that you do not hold me close as the wound in your heart— the wound that I nursed for so many years, the decades I grieved for you._

_We were enemies before death; we know, if we look back at it, we would not have worked— we never would have worked, and this truth is inevitable, no matter how we avoided it. _

_I have met another._

_She reminds me of you, Elle. She loves me like you. She is reminiscent of you, in every breath, every look, every laugh. But she is more than that, she is more than you— she has accepted all of me. All of me, even the parts you denied, rejected, and denounced. _

_She is the light in my life and she is the sun; she lets me bloom, grow in ways I never thought possible, ways I had forgotten to feel. She awakens what died with you. She is the light and I drink in the sun as though my lifeline. And she has healed me, she has broken down walls I had barricaded and bolstered until they were near impossible to climb; when one's death was near, mine, I found another reason to fight. _

_This letter could be one of harsh words and accusations, but I am not one to rile up old memories and raise old scars. I loved you, and that time is in the past. I love another now, and she gives me more. I am free and you are, as well. _

_This is a last farewell as I let your memory go, dearest; this is a last goodbye. _

— _C. Karnstein _

I fold the letter into sixteen little squares and fold it, shoving it into the bookshelf so a small corner sticks out, before I click off the lamp and descend into dreams.

_**Hey guys! Let's pull to 14 reviews, eh? And, though I don't want to sound whiny, it makes my day to see your thoughts and reviews, but sometimes it's a bit chagrining to see just a 'keep going' or 'update please'. It's detrimental to the writing process! :3**_


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